I  EX 


FRANK 
MERHWELL'S 
FAITH 


5URT • L 
STAN  DISH 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


Then  Merriwell  went  over  the  side  of  the  shell,  clearing  it  well,  find  coming 
to  the  surface  almost  instantly,  shouted  : 

"  You  can  win  yet !     Pull,  fellows  !    Pull !  " 

(Sec  pnge  79) 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S 
FAITH 


BY 

BURT  L.  STANDISH 

AUTHOR  OF 

"Frank  Merriwell's  School  Days,"  "Frank  Merriwell's  Chums," 
"Frank  Merriwell's  Foes,"  etc. 


•y  STREET  it  SMITH 
Frank  Merriwell'*  Fai* 


AH  rights  reserved,  including  that  of  translation  tnt«  foreign  language*, 
including  the  Scandinavian. 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S  FA1TR 


CHAPTER  I. 

IN  TRAINING   AT   NEW   LONDON. 

To  one  in  whose  veins  runs  the  good  red  blood  of 
youth,  few  things  are  prettier  or  more  attractive  than 
a  boat's  crew  of  strong,  athletic,  lithe-limbed  university 
men  speeding  their  cranky  shell,  their  bodies  bending, 
and  the  oars  rising  and  falling  with  machinelike  pre- 
cision. 

Such  was  the  sight  beheld  by  Frank  Merriwell,  as 
he  stood  on  the  float  and  looked  out  across  the  shining 
water  at  the  boat  which  was  shooting  toward  him  with 
splendid  speed. 

The  waves  were  dashing  against  and  gurgling  rouna 
the  boat,  and  out  where  the  boat  sped  they  were  run- 
ning high  enough  to  fling  a  jet  of  spray  now  and  then 
over  a  rower. 

"The  men  are  getting  into  fine  form !"  thought  Mer- 
riwell, as  he  watched  the  work  of  the  crew.  "But  they, 
will  need  to  do  their  best  to  beat  Harvard  this  year! 
I  fancy  the  race  will  be  for  blood." 

Reports  of  the  training  and  skill  of  the  Harvard 
crew  were  not  lacking  at  Yale.  It  was  known  that 


6  In  Training  at  New  London. 

for  months  the  Harvard  men  had  been  working  like 
galley-slaves  to  put  themselves  in  condition  for  the 
boat-race  at  New  London.  But  Yale  had  been  work- 
ing as  hard  or  harder.  No  toil  had  been  spared  by  the 
Yale  eight  to  prepare  themselves  for  their  great  battle 
against  the  Crimson. 

Frank  felt  a  thrill  of  pride  as  he  watched  the  rowers. 
They  were  handsome,  manly  fellows,  with  brown, 
muscular  bodies,  clothed  only  in  sleeveless  shirts,  short 
trunks,  and  heavy,  loose-fitting  socks.  The  little  cox- 
swain who  so  deftly  guided  the  shell  and  encouraged 
the  crew  with  his  words  was  not  prouder  of  them  than 
was  Frank  Merriwell. 

On  one  person  in  the  shell  Frank's  eyes  were  fixed 
with  more  earnestness  and  pleasure  than  on  any  other. 
That  was  Jack  Diamond,  who  by  pure  merit  had  won 
the  important  position  of  stroke  for  the  varsity  eight. 
The  supple  grace  which  concealed  the  tremendous 
power  which  Diamond  threw  into  his  stroke  appealed 
strongly  to  Merriwell's  sense  of  beauty.  Diamond  had 
indeed  developed  into  a  fine  oarsman,  and  the  perfect 
rhythmic  sense  which  made  him  a  skilled  musician 
made  his  stroke  as  unvarying  and  regular  as  the  beat 
of  a  pendulum. 

The  voice  of  the  coxswain  came  musically  across 
the  water : 

"All  together!  all  together!  Now!  now!"  keeping 
time  to  Diamond's  stroke. 


In  Training  at  New  London.  7 

The  sunshine  flashed  like  silver  on  the  dripping 
blades,  while  here  and  there  the  waves  frothed  silvery 
white  along  their  plashing  crests.  But  for  the  breeze 
which  ruffled  the  water,  the  day  was  perfect,  and  the 
sky  was  an  azure-blue. 

The  varsity  eight  were  now  at  New  London,  and 
had  taken  up  quarters  at  Gale's  Ferry,  on  the  Thames. 
The  Harvard  eight  were  also  at  New  London,  but 
some  distance  down  the  river. 

The  training  and  practise  must  go  on,  but  the  col- 
lege examinations  could  not  be  skipped  for  that,  and  a 
proctor  had  been  sent  down  from  Yale  to  supervise  the 
examinations  of  the  crew.  The  examinations  and  the 
training  together  made  hard  work,  but  the  picked  eight 
were  standing  up  to  this  double  duty  in  a  manly  way. 

"I  don't  believe  Harvard  can  get  together  eight  men 
who  can  beat  them.  That  shell  is  simply  flying,  and 
they  move  like  one  man.  Diamond  is  a  splendid 
stroke." 

It  made  Merry's  heart  warm  to  feel  this.  Then  he 
thought  of  Inza,  as  he  always  did  when  he  beheld  the 
crew  at  their  oars. 

"To  be  the  mascot  of  a  crew  like  that  is  worth  while! 
The  crew  is  worthy  of  the  mascot,  and  the  mascot  is 
worthy  of  the  crew." 

Merriwell  had  run  down  from  New  Haven  on  this 
afternoon  to  witness  the  work  of  the  crew,  and  was  to 
return  that  night.  New  Haven  was  pulsing  with  en- 


S  In  Training  at  New  London. 

thusiasm  for  the  Blue,  but  he  had  found  New  London 
very  much  divided  between  the  Blue  and  the  Crimson. 
In  New  London  he  had  also  encountered  Paul  Rains, 
and  Rains  was  a  Harvard  enthusiast. 

"The  scalp  of  Yale  will  swing  at  the  belt  of  Har- 
vard this  year!"  Rains  had  declared,  and  Rains  evi- 
dently believed  it. 

There  were  many  others  in  New  London  who  were 
just  as  confident  that  Harvard  would  win  the  race. 
More  than  that,  Frank  had  discovered  that  the  betting 
men  of  New  London  were  favoring  Harvard. 

The  betting  fraternity  usually  has  a  keen  scent  for 
the  strength  and  weakness  of  competing  crews  and 
teams,  as  Frank  knew,  and  the  knowledge  which  he 
had  gained  of  their  attitude  made  him  watch  the  work 
of  the  crew  with  a  keener  eye  than  common. 

If  there  was  any  apparent  weakness  he  wanted  to 
see  it,  so  that  he  might  suggest  its  correction  to  the 
coach.  But  though  he  earnestly  searched,  he  saw  so 
little  to  criticize  that  his  confidence  of  success  grew. 
With  leaps  like  a  greyhound,  the  shell  drew  near  the 
float,  then  glided  alongside  of  it.  Scarcely  a  minute 
later  the  crew  were  on  the  float  and  were  lifting  the 
shell  from  the  water. 

When  the  shell  had  been  housed,  the  crew  rubbed 
down,  and  Jack  reappeared  in  his  ordinary  clothing, 
the  Virginian  came  straight  up  to  Merriwell,  his  fine 
face  flushed  with  pleasure. 


In  Training  at  New  London.  9 

"Glad  to  see  you  down  here,  Merry!"  extending  a 
hand.  "Of  course,  you're  loaded  down  with  all  the 
news  of  Yale?  I  didn't  know  that  any  one  could  so 
miss  the  old  quadrangle  and  the  crowds  and  the  fence! 
We're  hard  at  work  here,  and  the  fellows  are  a  lively 
lot,  but  for  all  that  I've  felt  like  Crusoe  on  his  island !" 

Frank  stepped  into  an  ordinary  rowboat  that  was 
bobbing  against  the  float.  The  coach  came  walking1 
from  the  boat-house  toward  them. 

"No  objections  if  we  row  out  along  the  course?'* 
Frank  asked. 

"None  at  all,  Merriwell!  You  saw  the  work  just 
now?" 

"Yes,  it  was  splendid.  I  suppose  Harvard  is  sha- 
ding into  fine  shape,  too?" 

"But  they  can't  beat  us!"  the  coach  beamingly  de- 
clared. 

"You're  making  a  good  stroke,  Diamond!"  Frank 
remarked,  when  he  and  Jack  were  afloat,  with  Frank 
at  the  oars. 

Diamond's  tanned  face  brightened. 

"Glad  you  think  so,  Merry !  I'm  resolved  that  if  we 
don't  win  the  -race  it  won't  be  because  I  didn't  do  my 
best.  How  are  the  fellows  feeling  about  it  ?" 

"Yale  and  all  New  Haven  are  sure  we  will  win!  I 
think  so  myself,  but  we  must  not  become  too  confident, 
you  know!  I  think  I  never  saw  a  shell  go  over  the 
water  more  smoothly  than  yours  did  just  now." 


io          In  Training  at  New  London. 

"And  the  river  might  be  smoother!" 

"Yes,  and  it  may  be  just  like  this,  or  worse,  on  the 
day  of  the  race !" 

Then,  seeing  that  Jack  was  anxious  for  the  college 
gossip  and  news,  Merriwell  gave  him  a  running  ac- 
count of  such  things  as  he  knew  would  be  of  interest. 

"This  Robinson  Crusoe  work  down  here  has  set  me 
to  thinking  more  than  ever!"  said  Diamond,  with  a 
grave  face. 

"It  must  be  good,  then,  if  it  makes  people  think  f 
I've  heard  it  argued  that  college  sports  have  just  the 
opposite  effect." 

Though  Merriwell  smiled,  Jack  did  not. 

"It  has  brought  home  to  me  more  strongly  than 
ever  what  it  will  mean  to  be  separated  from  the  men 
who  have  been  my  friends  at  Yale  for  four  long 
years !" 

Frank's  face  also  grew  sober.  The  thought  was 
not  pleasant,  though  recently  he  had  often  been  forced 
to  entertain  it.  These  were  the  closing  days  of  June, 
the  final  examinations  were  under  way,  and  commence- 
ment was  at  hand.  Then  the  seniors  would  go  away 
from  Yale,  never  to  return  again  as  students,  with  the 
exception  of  the  few  who  would  take  post-graduate 
courses.  The  hand  of  fate  was  soon  to  hurl  the  seniors 
out  into  the  field  of  the  world  as  a  sower  broadcasts 
his  grain,  where  their  qualities  would  be  tested,  and  it 
would  become  known  whether  they  were  merely  weeds 


In  Training  at  New  London.          n 

or  wheat.  Those  latter  days  of  June  were  indeed  seri- 
ous days,  but  the  anxiety  of  the  examinations  and 
training,  the  plans  for  vacations  and  home-going,  and 
the  thousand  distractions  that  come  to  a  student  aV  such 
a  time  kept  many  from  realizing  what  commencement 
really  meant. 

"We  can  always  be  friends,  Jack!"  said  Merriwell, 
resting  on  his  oars  as  he  looked  into  the  serious  face 
of  his  friend — that  friend  whom  he  had  learned  to  love 
as  a  brother.  "The  Yale  friendships  need  never  be 
broken!" 

"Of  course,  we  will  always  be  friends,  and  I  shall 
always  think  of  the  time  at  Yale  as  the  happiest  of  my 
life,  and  shall  value  the  old  Yale  friendships  more 
than  any  other.  But  it's  the  separation!" 

Perhaps  it  was  a  dash  of  salt  spray  that  reddened 
Diamond's  eyes,  and  that  same  salt  spray  seemed  to 
thicken  his  voice  when  he  spoke  again. 

"If  Yale  loses  to  Harvard,  it  won't  be  because  the 
stroke  doesn't  put  into  the  race  every  ounce  of  strength 
he  has!" 

The  subject  had  suddenly  changed,  and  Jack  was 
again  talking  of  the  crew. 

"We  are  sure  of  you!"  said  Merriwell,  who  knew 
that  Jack  Diamond,  the  splendid  Virginian,  could  be 
depended  on  to  pull  his  heart  out,  if  necessary,  to  win 
the  New  London  boat-race  for  Yale. 

The  breeze  died  at  the  approach  of  evening  and  the 


12          In  Training  at  New  London. 

waters  became  smoother,  while  the  whitecaps  vanished 
from  the  harbor.  Diamond  looked  at  his  watch.  The 
time  had  sped  more  rapidly  than  either  he  or  Merri- 
well  had  dreamed. 

"We  must  be  getting  back.  I'll  have  the  proctor 
and  the  coach  both  after  me.  They  stick  as  close  to  a 
Bellow  as  bad  luck!" 

There  was  a  white  sickle  of  a  moon  in  the  sky,  and 
another  in  the  water  of  the  Thames,  but  foggy  clouds 
soon  swung  in  from  the  Sound  and  blotted  out  both. 
Almost  before  Jack  and  Frank  were  aware  of  it,  the 
river  began  to  grow  dark. 

"I'll  take  the  oars  now!"  said  Diamond.  "You 
must  be  getting  tired." 

Merriwell  was  not  tired,  but  he  permitted  Diamond 
to  take  the  oars,  and  the  rowboat  was  turned  toward 
the  float  and  the  boat-house.  Diamond  feathered  the 
oars  so  neatly  and  pulled  with  such  a  clean  and  beauti- 
ful stroke  that  Frank  found  pleasure  in  watching  him. 
But  the  increasing  darkness  soon  marred  this  pleasure. 
A  fog-bank  was  chasing  the  clouds  up  the  river  and 
making  its  presence  felt. 

"Can  you  find  the  boat-house?"  Frank  asked. 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  think  so.  If  we  listen  we're 
likely  to  hear  some  of  the  fellows  there.  We  can't  see 
their  light,  but  some  of  them  will  bellow  through  the 
megaphone,  or  shout  to  guide  us." 

There  was  not  much  talking  after  that,  for  each 


In  Training  at  New  London.  13 

anxiously  listened  for  any  sounds  that  might  direct 
them.  Diamond  stopped  rowing  at  intervals,  and  at 
all  times  endeavored  to  subdue  the  thump  of  the  oars 
in  the  rowlocks. 

"Boat  coming!"  he  said,  as  he  stopped  and  poised 
the  oars  and  left  the  boat  drift  on. 

"Can't  be  any  of  the  crew?"  Merriwell  inquired. 

"No,  I  don't  think  so." 

"They're  not  making  much  more  noise  than  you 
were!" 

"Perhaps  they're  listening  for  some  sound  to  guide 
them !" 

"If  they  come  near  enough  we'll  hail  them !" 

"Rains  went  down  the  river  to-day  in  a  rowboat 
with  two  fellows,"  said  Diamond.  "I  thought  they 
were  probably  trying  to  get  a  look  at  the  work  of  the 
Harvard  crew." 

Without  any  particular  reason,  he  spoke  in  low 
^ones.  He  fairly  stiffened  on  the  thwart  as  he  fin- 
ished the  sentence. 

"Rains •" 

The  other  boat  was  much  nearer  than  Jack  had 
thought,  and  -this  seemed  almost  to  come  in  answer  to 
what  he  had  said.  The  sentence  which  seemed  to  begin 
with  Rains'  name  died  away,  however,  in  indistin- 
guishable words,  and  again  the  thud  and  thump  of  the 
rowlocks  drowned  the  talk  in  the  other  boat. 

Merriwell  always  disapproved  of  eavesdropping,  but 


14          In  Training  at  New  London. 

he  could  not  scold  Diamond  when  the  latter  let  his 
boat  drift  and  strained  his  ears  to  catch  what  further 
was  being  said. 

"I'm  ashamed  of  that!"  Jack  admitted,  when  the 
boat  had  passed  on  and  he  again  dipped  his  oars.  "But 
when  they  said  'Rains'  I  felt  sure  it  was  something 
that  Yale  ought  to  know,  and  I  listened.  It  wasn't 
honorable,  I  suppose!" 

"Rains  is  betting  against  Yale  in  New  London," 
said  Frank.  "I  heard  that  among  the  first  things  when 
I  struck  the  place.  He  is  sure  that  Harvard  is  going  to 
win,  and  he  is  backing  up  his  belief  with  the  hard 
cash!" 

"Perhaps  something  of  that  kind  was  what  the  fel- 
lows in  the  boat  were  talking  about.  Likely  they're 
sporting  men,  who  have  been  out  trying  to  study  the 
work  of  Yale  and  Harvard,  and  were  talking  of 
Rains'  bets." 

"That  seems  very  probable." 

Again  Jack  stopped  rowing. 

"The  megaphone!  Can  it  be  from  the  float? 
Doesn't  seem  to  come  from  the  right  direction." 

"It's  from  the  float,  I  think,"  Merry  answered,  and 
Diamond,  who  had  unknowingly  been  pulling  diag- 
onally across  the  river,  pulled  now  toward  the  Sound, 
sending  the  boat  on  with  such  speed  that  the  float  was 
soon  reached. 

As  Merriwell  returned  to  the  station  to  take  the 


Jn  Training  at  New  London.          15 

train  for  New  London  and  New  Haven  he  continued 
to  think  of  what  he  and  Jack  had  heard  in  the  boat. 
Suddenly  he  stopped,  with  the  queer  sensation  of  one 
who  feels  that  he  has  been  blunderingly  oversuspicious. 

"Rains?  Why,  to  be  sure!  What  a  guy  I  am! 
Those  fellows  were  probably  talking  about  the 
weather.  They  may  have  been  fishermen.  They  may 
have  said,  'If  it  rains  we'll  do  so  and  so.'  And  be- 
cause we  were  thinking  of  Paul  Rains  we  supposed 
they  were  thinking  of  him,  too !  I  guess  I'd  better  go 
out  somewhere  and  kick  myself !  I'll  have  to  write  to 
Jack  about  that." 

Notwithstanding  this  very  satisfactory  explanation, 
Merriwell  had  not  been  seated  in  the  station  long  when 
he  heard  that  word  again  in  the  same  voice  which  had 
sounded  in  the  boat  on  the  river.  Some  men  were  sit- 
ting out  behind  the  station  close  up  against  the  wall, 
talking  in  subdued  tones.  But  Frank  was  so  convinced 
that  they  were  conversing  about  the  weather  that  he 
did  not  pay  much  attention  to  them  nor  try  to  move 
away. 

Then  these  words  came  to  him : 

"Justin  Lake  is  steering  the  syndicate,  I  think. 
Rains  is  betting  free.  Oh,  there  can't  be  any  doubt 
that  we'll  throw  Yale — and  that  means  about  $50,000 
to  be  divided  among  us.  We've  got  three  plans,  and 
one  or  the  other  will  do  the  trick." 

Though  Merriwell  was  opposed  to  eavesdropping, 


16          In  Training  at  New  London. 

he  felt  that  here  was  something  he  ought  to  know.  It 
revealed  the  fact  that  certain  men  were  in  a  plot  to 
bring  about  the  defeat  of  Yale  in  the  interest  of  a 
gambling  syndicate.  It  was  his  duty  to  defeat  that  if 
he  could.  There  came  a  warning  from  one  of  the  men 
to  the  speaker,  and  the  tones  were  instantly  subdued. 
But  Merriwell  heard  these  words  : 

"Mascot."  "Syndicate."  "Great  scheme."  "Bound 
to  do  the  trick."  "Can't  fail."  "Paralyze  the 
stroke." 

The  words  did  not  reach  him  in  any  connected  way. 

"I'm  going  to  see  who  those  fellows  are!" 

As  he  rose  he  heard  them  get  up.  Then  he  heard 
the  scratching  of  a  match. 

"Most  time!" 

This  evidently  referred  to  the  time  of  the  train's 
departure. 

Merriwell  moved  toward  the  door  for  the  purpose 
of  getting  a  look  at  the  men  who  had  been  talking 
behind  the  station.  As  he  did  so  he  heard  them  talk- 
ing again.  They  were  walking  round  the  station,  and 
soon  were  in  the  circle  of  light  streaming  from  the 
ticket-seller's  window. 

There  were  three  of  them,  and  as  soon  as  his  eyes 
fell  on  them  Frank  set  them  down  as  professional 
sport*  and  betting  men.  The  one  revealed  by  his  voice 
as  the  man  who  had  spoken  of  Rains  in  the  boat  and 
again  behind  the  station  was  clad  in  loud  plaids,  and  a 


In  Training  at  New  London.          17 

big  diamond  glittered  in  his  shirt-front.  One  of  his 
companions  wore  a  silk  tile,  a  gaudy  vest,  and  patent 
leather  shoes,  and  the  other  had  somewhat  the  look  of 
a  pugilist,  and  swung  a  heavy  cane.  They  stared  un- 
pleasantly at  Frank  as  they  beheld  him,  and  their  man- 
ner showed  they  did  not  know  he  was  in  the  station, 
and  were  not  at  all  pleased  with  his  presence. 

Merriwell  vacated  the  waiting-room  and  walked  out 
on  the  platform.  From  what  he  had  heard,  the  "syndi- 
cate" was  aiming  blows  at  the  mascot  and  at  the 
stroke — Inza  and  Jack  Diamond.  It  seemed  plain 
that  Paul  Rains  and  Justin  Lake  were  members  of 
the  syndicate.  Yet  these  men  did  not  know  all  about 
the  syndicate's  plans,  apparently,  for  they  seemed  not 
to  be  sure  that  Lake  was  "steering  it." 

"Lake  is  a  dangerous  fellow !  He  is  the  possessor 
of  'abundant  money  and  no  scruples.  Rains  has  plenty 
of  money  now,  too.  He  can  be  quite  unscrupulous  at 
times.  But  I  shouldn't  have  thought  he  would  lend 
himself  to  such  a  scheme !" 

The  more  Frank  thought  of  the  possible  danger  to 
Inza  and  to  Jack  Diamond  the  more  it  seemed  his  duty 
to  learn  all  he"  could  concerning  the  plans  .of  these 
men,  and  he  walked  round  behind  the  station,  thinking 
that  other  scraps  of  conversation  might  float  to  him. 

"That's  Frank  Merriwell!"  he  was  astonished  to 
hear  one  of  the  men  say.  "We've  got  to  look  out  foe 
him." 


l8         Jn  Training  at  New  London. 

"If  he  comes  nosing  round,  I'll  open  his  head  with 
this  club!" 

"Couldn't  buy  him  into  the  thing?" 

"Might  as  well  think  of  buying  the  coach!" 

"Hope  he  didn't  hear  anything." 

"Where  is  he  now  ?" 

"If  we  could  only  buy  him  into  the  thing!  The 
stroke  is  his  friend,  and  we'd  have  a  dead-sure  thing." 

"Wouldn't  do  to  speak  to  him.  Ruin  the  whole 
business.  Dead-sure  thing  now !  Trust  to  Lake !" 

They  moved  away,  and  Frank  walked  on  round  the 
station. 


CHAPTER  II. 

JOKERS   ALL. 

"The  next  time  I  select  my  parents  I  shall  pick  out 
millionaires.  This  thing  of  limping  through  the  world 
with  a  crippled  purse  isn't  as  funny  as  it  might  be!" 

This  was  Danny's  comment,  after  Merriwell  had 
told  the  story  of  what  he  had  heard,  and  had  spoken 
of  Justin  Lake's  connection  with  the  "syndicate." 

"Thinking  of  Lake's  yacht?"  asked  Bruce.  "It's 
great !" 

"Greg  Carker  has  something  better  than  a  yacht,'* 
Bink  declared. 

"How  is  that?"  Carker  queried. 

"He  has  a  revenue  cutter  that  is  a  regular  clipper  !*' 

"Nothing  of  the  kind !"  said  Greg. 

"I  mean  the  scissors  with  which  you  clip  off  your 
coupons." 

"It  mum-makes  me  worried  abub-about  the  mascot  1" 
stuttered  Gamp. 

"Because  she  looks  as  pretty  as  a  yacht  when  she 
sails  down  the  street?"  questioned  Harry  Rattleton. 

"Thinking  about  that  sus-sus-syn " 

"What  sin?"  Bruce  drawled. 

"The  masc-ought  to  be  able  to  take  care  of  herself !" 
Danny  chirped. 


20  Jokers  All 

"When  a  yacht  sails " 

"You've  seen  a  yacht  sale?"  cut  in  Danny. 

"Yes,  and  I've  seen  a  cake  walk !"  said  Rattleton. 

"And  a  cracker  box,  and  a  worm  fence,  and  a  board 
slide,  and  a  tobacco  twist,"  chirped  Bink.  "Oh,  yes. 
we've  seen  every  old  thing!" 

"Everything  except  common  sense  in  your  chatter !" 
groaned  Dismal. 

"Awhile  ago  I  asked  Bink  to  bring  my  watch  down 
from  my  room,"  said  Carker,  smiling. 

"And,  of  course,  he  brought  it?"  Merry  asked. 

"No,  the  rascal !  He  said  if  I'd  wait  awhile  it  would 
run  down !" 

"You  scoundrel,  I  had  that  joke  patented!"  Danny 
howled,  scowling  severely  at  Bink. 

"You  two  fellows  are  like  the  man  I  read  about,  who 
was  born  in  Brooklyn  and  afterward  moved  to  New 
York !"  Bruce  grumbled. 

"How  was  that  ?"  Bink  queried. 

"Simply  going  from  bad  to  worse !" 

"Yah !"  taking  out  a  cigarette.    "Give  me  a  match !" 

"I'm  your  match !"  Danny  boasted. 

"Oh,  your  head  is  fiery  enough!  But  it  doesn't 
need  to  be  scratched  to  make  it  light." 

All  were  in  Merriwell's  room. 

"If  this  keeps  up  I  shall  have  to  do  like  the  trees," 
Frank  declared. 


Jokers  All.  21 

"Put  out  the  green  things?" 

"Leave!" 

"And  if  it  keeps  up  I  shall  have  to  whip  Bink 
Stnbbs,"  said  Danny. 

"Your  great  reputation  as  a  fighter  is  spreading!" 
sniffed  Bink.  "Man  at  the  post-office  told  me  he  wants 
to  hire  you." 

"For  what?" 

"To  lick  stamps !" 

"I  don't  see  how  you  fellows  can  enjoy  this  sort  of 
chatter!"  Greg  Carker  grumbled.  "This  world  is  a 
serious  place,  and  the  news  that  Merriwell  has  brought 
is  serious  news.  Why  can't  you  sober  down  once?" 

"As  the  temperance  orator  said  to  the  drunkard!" 
piped  Bink. 

Carker  faced  toward  Merriwell  with  a  shrug  of  dis- 
gust. 

"We  can  never  expect  anything  but  trouble  to  come 
out  of  these  outcasts!"  he  earnestly  declared.  "The 
whole  thing  is  wrong,  and  a  wrong  tree  is  known  by 
its  fruits  as  certainly  as  a  good  one." 

"We'll  pick  out  the  right  kind  of  trees  to  sit  under 
when  we  go  on  our  vacation !"  Danny  mumbled. 

"Then  they  will  be  chestnut-trees!"  said  Dismal. 
"Those  are  the  kind  for  you  and  Bink." 

"And  a  spruce  will  do  for  you !"  Bink  retorted. 

"Why?" 

"Because  it's  ever-green  I" 


22  Jokers  All. 

"The  whole  system  of  contests  is  wrong!"  insisted 
Carker,  who,  though  he  was  rich,  was  a  pronounced 
socialist.  "If  we  win,  the  other  crew  is  beaten ;  and  if 
they  win,  we  are  beaten.  There  is  heartache  and  dis- 
appointment somewhere.  These  things  must  all  be 
done  away  with  before  the  era  of  the  true  brotherhood 
of  man  can  come  into  existence.  When  the  world  is  a 
great  cooperative  institution,  and  every  man's  gains 
and  losses  are  just  the  same,  then  there  will  be  no 
temptation  drawing  men  to  organize  gambling  syndi- 
cates to  throw  a  boat-race,  for  there  will  be  nothing  to 
be  lost  by  one  set  of  men  and  won  by  another.  You 
can  see  how  evil  the  tree  must  be  when  it  can  yield 
such  fruits!" 

Danny  sighed  wearily. 

"Which  would  you  rather  be,  Rockefeller,  or  his 
coachman?"  Bink  queried. 

"There  will  be  no  such  distinctions  when  civilization 
becomes  a  cooperative  brotherhood.  To  answer  your 
question :  I  shouldn't  want  to  be  either  Rockefeller  or 
his  coachman." 

"One  million  is  enough  for  you,  eh?" 

"I  think  ten  thousand  would  make  me  happy !"  said 
Joe  Hooker,  who  up  to  that  time  had  said  nothing. 

Carker  gave  Hooker  a  strange  look. 

"I'm  surprised  to  hear  you  say  that,  Hooker.  I've 
really  been  envying  you.  Think  what  it  means  not  to 
have  a  lot  of  wealth  to  worry  about !  You  are  alwavs 


Jokers  All.  23 

afraid  you  may  lose  some  of  it,  or  that  some  invest- 
ment will  fail  or  bank  cashier  run  away.  You  are  en- 
cumbered with  business  cares  beyond  anything  most 
men  dream  of.  A  poor  man  has  none  of  that!  He 
doesn't  have  to  see  lawyers  and  have  suits " 

"I  think  I  should  be  glad  to  have  a  few  suits !"  said 
Hooker,  with  a  meaning  glance  at  his  worn  clothing. 

Danny  gave  a  yell. 

"That  would  suit  me !"  chirped  Bink.  "I've  always 
wanted  to  be  arrayed  like  the  grass  of  the  fields, 
which " 

"Oh,  you're  verdant  enough  now !"  Danny  asserted? 

"I  went  to  church  once/'  said  Bruce. 

"You  astonish  me !"  Bink  interrupted. 

"Went  to  church  once,"  Bruce  repeated,  "and  the 
choir  was  singing  that  anthem  about  the  lilies.  You 
know  how  it  goes?  Pretty!  The  bass  bellowed  like 
the  heaving  sea,  'Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  ar- 
rayed!' Then  the  tenor  sang,  'Was  not  arrayed!' 
And  the  alto  came  in,  'Was  not  arrayed!'  Then  the 
soprano  climbed  up  into  the  top  of  the  choir  gallery 
and  squealed, . 'Was  not  arrayed!'  After  which  they 
all  howled  together,  'Was  not  arrayed!'  Just  then  a 
drummer  from  Kalamazoo  who  was  sitting  behind  me 
bent  forward  and  whispered,  as  the  choir  gripped  its 
breath  for  a  new  start,  'Let's  take  up  a  collection  and 
get  Solomon  some  clothing !'  " 


24  Jokers  All. 

"It's  of  no  use  to  try  to  talk  sense  to  men  who 
haven't  enough  sense " 

"My  trouble  exactly,"  said  Hooker.  "I  haven't 
enough  cents !" 

"You  haven't  enough  sense  to  be  serious.  You 
laugh  at  me  now,  but  just  as  sure  as  socialism  doesn't 
have  it;;  way,  there  will  come  such  an  earthquake  as  the 
world  has  never  dreamed  of." 

"You  might  hasten  that  leveling  process  a  little  bit," 
said  Hooker.  "If  you  are  to  divide  up  with  me,  I'll 
transfer  some  of  my  experience  with  poverty  for  some 
of  your  hard  cash.  That  ought  to  hasten  the  dawn  of 
*he  millennium — for  me !" 

Carker  turned  on  Hooker  with  a  look  that  was  al- 
most envious. 

"Hooker,  to  do  a  thing  of  that  kind  would  be  a 
crime!  You  don't  know  how  happy  you  are  in  your 
present  condition.  The  poor  man  who  has  enough  to 
satisfy  his  wants  is  the  happiest  man  in  the  world.  If 
you  had  ten  thousand  dollars  you  would  want  a  hun- 
dred thousand,  and  then  a  million,  and  then  a  hundred 
millions!  If  there  is  a  man  in  Yale  whom  I  have 
^nvied,  Hooker,  that  man  is  you!" 

Notwithstanding  that  he  had  joked  lightly  with  the 
jokers,  Frank  Merriwell's  thoughts  were  serious 
enough  when  his  friends  took  their  departure,  and  he 
began  a  mental  survey  of  recent  events. 

He  had  given  much  thought  to  the  words  he  had 


Jokers  All.  25 

heard  while  on  his  trip  from  the  headquarters  of  the 
boat  crew  at  Gale's  Ferry,  and  he  had  been  forced  to 
the  belief  that  a  great  conspiracy  was  on  foot  to  defeat 
Yale  in  the  interest  of  a  gambling  syndicate.  The 
men  whose  conversation  he  had  partially  overheard 
were  of  a  type  who  would  not  stop  at  anything  to  gain 
their  ends,  and  experience  had  shown  him  that  Justin 
Lake  was  quite  as  unscrupulous. 

"There  is  one  thing,  and  only  one  thing,  to  be  done 
before  the  race.  I  must  find  out  just  what  is  back  of 
that  talk,  who  the  dangerous  men  are,  and  what  their 
scheme  is.  I  shall  have  to  speak  to  Inza  about  it,  too, 
so  that  she  may  be  on  her  guard.  If  she  was  not  thor- 
oughly brave  and  courageous,  I  shouldn't  dare  to  do 
that.  But  she  will  need  to  be  on  her  guard.  The 
syndicate  will  strike  at  her  in  some  way,  and  it  will 
also  strike  at  Jack.  I  must  write  him  a  letter." 

Thereupon  Merriwell  got  out  his  writing-materials 
and  penned  a  letter  to  Diamond,  warning  Jack  of  the 
dangers  he  feared,  and  giving  him  a  description  of 
the  men  he  had  seen  and  heard  at  the  station.  When 
he  had  this  finished,  Merriwell  went  down  and  dropped 
it  into  the  nearest  letter-box.  As  he  turned  to  go  back 
he  encountered  Hodge. 

"Just  making  my  way  to  your  room  with  a  bit  01 
news,"  said  Bart.  "Rains  is  in  town !" 

"He  has  run  over  from  New  London,  then  ?" 

"Yes.     I  saw  him  down  by  Traeger's  awhile  ago. 


26  Jokers  AH. 

He  is  offering  bets  on  Harvard.  He  seems  to  be  dead 
sure  that  the  Crimson  will  take  the  whole  bakeshop 
this  time." 

"I  shall  try  to  get  a  talk  with  him  if  he  stays,"  said 
Frank. 

"Looks  as  if  he  were  in  that  syndicate?" 

Three  men  were  coming  up  the  walk.  Merriwell 
plucked  Bart  by  the  arm. 

"Get  a  good  look  at  those  fellows  as  they  go  by, 
without  appearing  to  do  so.  They  are  the  three  I 
overheard  talking." 

The  three  men  came  slowly  on.  They  appeared  to 
oe  closely  scanning  their  surroundings  and  making  a 
study  of  the  buildings.  When  they  beheld  the  two 
youths,  they  stopped  this  and  hurried  on. 

"Something  suspicious  about  that!"  said  Hodge. 
"Looks  to  me  as  if  they  are  preparing  for  some  kind 
of  a  raid.  Perhaps  they're  planning  to  kidnap  you, 
Merry!" 

"Why  should  they  want  to  do  that  ?  I'm  not  one  of 
the  crew.  If  Diamond  roomed  up  there,  I  should  agree 
with  you.  But  Diamond  is  at  Gale's  Ferry." 

"I  shall  know  them  when  I  see  them  again  !'v 
growled  Hodge,  as  if  he  desired  to  take  the  rascals  by 
the  throat  and  summarily  punish  them  for  venturing 
near  the  campus  and  the  college  buildings  at  night. 
"They're  here  and  Rains  is  here.  We'll  see  Justin 
Lake  next !" 


Jokers  All.  27 

They  did  see  Justin  Lake  the  very  next  morning. 
He  was  walking  with  Paul  Rains,  too.  Rains  and 
Lake  passed  Merriwell  and  Hodge  on  the  street  some 
distance  from  the  campus. 

"Hello!"  called  Rains.    "Glad  to  see  you!" 

Then  he  excused  himself  to  Lake,  who  passed  on, 
and  came  over  as  if  for  a  talk  with  Merriwell  and 
Hodge. 

"I  suppose  you  know  that  fellow  ?"  Hodge  growled. 

"Justin  Lake  ?  Yes,  glad  to  say  I  do.  Leading  New 
York  family,  you  know.  Lake's  got  a  barrel  of 
money." 

Since  he  had  come  into  possession  of  "money  to 
burn,"  Paul  Rains  had  been  making  a  great  effort  to 
break  into  the  society  of  moneyed  people,  and  he  was 
evidently  proud  of  his  acquaintance  with  Lake. 

"He's  a  scoundrel!"  said  Hodge. 

Rains  laughed. 

"If  Merriwell  had  said  that,  now,  I  shouldn't  have 
been  surprised.  Lake  was  telling  me  of  the  way  he 
tried  to  get  Frank  and  some  others  out  of  the  way,  so 
that  California  would  be  sure  to  beat  Yale,  and  he 
would  be  a  big  bet  winner.  But  the  thing  didn't 
work." 

"Bart  is  right.    Lake  is  a  scoundrel." 

"We  have  been  talking  of  the  chances  in  the  coming 
boat-race,"  Rains  placidly  went  on.  "I'm  willing  to 


28  Jokers  All. 

lay  money  on  the  Crimson,  and  Lake  is  doing  the 
same.  But,  of  course,  we  expect  to  win  honorably !" 

"Don't  know  so  well  about  that!"  Bart  snarled. 

Hodge  was  not  in  a  pleasant  humor,  and  he  did  not 
like  Rains.  He  would  have  welcomed  an  excuse  to 
"thump  Rains  a  few"  at  almost  any  time. 

"Oh,  there  won't  be  any  need  to  try  trickery  to  beat 
Yale  this  year !  Yale  has  not  any  show  whatever.  I've 
closely  studied  the  thing.  Of  course,  my  sympathies 
are  naturally  with  Harvard,  but  I  haven't  let  that  blind 
me.  Harvard  has  the  better  crew,  the  better  method, 
the  better  coach." 

Merriwell  was  not  talking  much,  but  he  was  closely 
•watching  every  word  spoken  by  Rains,  in  the  hope 
that  if  Rains  were  in  the  syndicate,  or  knew  anything 
about  it,  that  fact  would  leak  out.  But  as  far  as  any 
such  knowledge  was  concerned,  Rains  seemed  as  guilt- 
less as  can  be  imagined. 

"Just  a  deep  game  of  his,"  said  Hodge,  as  Rains 
went  on.  "Rains  is  in  that  syndicate,  sure  as  fate!" 

After  walking  a  short  distance,  he  turned  and 
gripped  Merriwell  by  the  arm  and  pointed  down  the 
street. 

"There  is  the  proof  of  it !" 

Rains  had  rejoined  Justin  Lake,  and  the  two  were 
walking  away  with  the  trio  of  scamps  seen  by  Merri- 
well at  Gale's  Ferry. 


CHAPTER  III. 

MOVEMENTS   AT   CALEBS   FERRY. 

Jack  Diamond  was  strolling  on  the  shore  late  in  the 
evening,  when  the  letter  written  by  Merriwell  was  de- 
livered to  him  by  one  of  the  boat's  crew. 

"Same  fellows !"  he  gasped,  as  he  read  the  letter. 

A  few  minutes  before  he  had  seen  the  three  men 
mentioned  and  described  by  Merriwell.  They  were 
then  also  strolling  near  the  river.  During  the  after- 
noon Jack  had  seen  them  in  a  boat,  and  it  was  believed 
that  they  were  watching  the  work  of  the  Yale  and 
Harvard  crews. 

"Tell  the  fellows  that  I  will  return  by  and  by,"  said 
Diamond,  speaking  to  Wilson,  who  had  brought  the 
letter  and  who  was  No.  4  of  the  boat's  crew.  "There 
are  some  things  I  want  to  look  after  up  here." 

The  "things"  Jack  had  taken  a  sudden  notion  to  look 
after  were  the  three  men  mentioned  by  Merriwell. 
Jack  did  not  approve  of  eavesdropping  any  more  than 
Merriwell  did,  but  when  the  welfare  of  his  friends 
seemed  to  be  involved  in  a  plot  of  villains  he  did  not 
consider  that  it  was  eavesdropping  to  try  to  gain 
knowledge  of  that  plot. 

Though  the  men  had  disappeared,  Jack  followed  on 
in  the  direction  they  had  taken,  and  finally  discovered 


}o  Movements  at  Gale's  Ferry. 

them  seated  in  a  secluded  hollow  near  the  path.  They 
seemed  to  be  talking  and  smoking. 

Believing  he  had  not  been  seen,  Diamond  dropped 
into  some  bushes,  and  when  the  darkness  was  heavy 
enough  to  conceal  his  movements  he  continued  quietly 
on  along  the  path.  He  knew  that  to  thus  dog  these  men 
was  a  perilous  business.  They  wanted  to  strike  at  the 
man  who  pulled  the  stroke-oar,  and  Jack  felt  that  they 
would  probably  welcome  such  an  opportunity  as  would 
be  afforded  by  the  darkness  and  the  isolated  character 
of  the  place.  Hence  he  redoubled  his  efforts  to  keep  his 
presence  and  movements  concealed. 

When  almost  opposite  the  grassy  hollow,  he  heard 
the  men  rising  as  if  to  leave.  Again  Diamond  dropped 
down,  sure  that  his  form  in  the  darkness  could  not  be 
distinguished  from  the  black  shadows. 

"If  we  steal  the  mascot " 

Though  Diamond  could  understand  no  more,  these 
words  were  enough  to  fill  him  with  anxiety,  for  they 
seemed  to  portend  some  great  danger  to  Inza. 

"I  must  get  a  letter  to  Merriwell  as  quick  as  I  can !" 

He  rose  and  softly  followed  the  men.  They  had 
evidently  continued  along  that  path,  but  he  was  not 
able  to  come  up  with  them  again.  He  was  moving 
with  the  greatest  caution,  and  as  they  were  not  forced 
to  move  thus  slowly  he  believed  they  had  distanced 
him. 

By  and  by  Diamond  turned  back. 


Movements  at  Gale's  Ferry.  31 

"They  will  not  bother  round  here  any  more  to- 
night! I'll  write  to  Frank  at  once,  and  get  the  letter 
out  in  the  first  mail  to-morrow." 

But  Jack  Diamond  was  deceived.  The  men  had  not 
left  the  place. 

An  hour  later  they  were  at  the  water's  edge,  seated 
in  a  rowboat,  which  they  pushed  out  into  the  river. 
One  of  the  men  rowed  and  another  steered,  and  the 
boat's  bow  was  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  Yale 
boat-house  and  float,  of  whose  position  they  seemed 
as  well  assured  as  if  the  night  were  bright  and  moonli* 
instead  of  dark  and  foggy. 

The  oarsman  rowed  cautiously,  and  by  and  by 
the  men  ceased  altogether  to  talk.  And  in  silence 
the  boat  drew  up  at  the  float.  A  light  was  shining  to 
show  the  float's  position,  though  the  fog  had  not  en- 
abled them  to  see  this  until  they  were  near.  In  spite 
of  this,  one  of  the  men  left  the  boat,  and,  going  to  the 
boat-house,  he  took  some  wax  out  of  his  pockets,  and 
with  much  care  and  skill  secured  an  impression  of  the 
lock. 

"No  trouble  to  get  in  there  when  we're  ready!"  he 
whispered,  as  he-  came  back  to  the  boat  and  entered  it. 

"If  only  the  night  will  be  dark  enough!  Wish  we 
could  do  the  job  to-night !" 

This  was  growled  in  low  tones  by  the  man  who 
wore  the  shiny  silk  tile. 

"More  than  one  string  to  the  bow!"  was  the  an- 


32  Movements  at  Gale's  Ferry. 

swer,  as  the  boat  was  softly  shoved  away.  "If  we  slip 
up  on  this,  we  won't  slip  up  on  all." 

"You  bet  we  won't  fail!"  chimed  in  the  oarsman. 
''There's  too  much  boodle  back  of  this  for  it  to  fail. 
If  we  do  the  handwork  as  well  as  Lake  does  the  head- 
work,  the  thing  is  a  sure  winner." 

"Oh,  we'll  do  our  part!" 

"Sure !"  said  the  man  of  the  silk  hat,  who  was  now 
steering.  "Not  so  much  talk  and  more  work.  Give 
way  there!" 

The  rower  dipped  the  oars,  and  the  boat  softly 
glided  away. 

Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  appearances  were 
against  Paul  Rains,  Frank  Merriwell  was  reluctant  to 
believe  that  he  was  concerned  in  the  plot  against  Yale. 
If  the  plot  succeeded,  Rains  would  profit  by  it,  of 
course.  But  so  would  Harvard.  And  Frank  knew 
that  no  Harvard  man  had  any  knowledge  of  the  con- 
spiracy. 

Merriwell's  discovery  of  the  existence  of  a  "syndi- 
cate" was  the  one  thing  that  promised  to  defeat  the 
plans  of  the  conspirators.  But  the  evidence  was  still 
hazy,  and  it  continued  to  be  exasperatingly  so  almost 
up  to  the  time  of  the  race. 

The  words  heard  by  Diamond,  indicating  the  char- 
acter of  the  danger  to  Inza,  the  mascot  of  the  crew, 
caused  Frank  not  only  to  warn  Inza,  but  to  throw 
around  her  so  many  safeguards  that  it  seemed  impos- 


Movements  at  Gale's  Ferry.  33 

sible  for  the  scamps  to  carry  out  this  part  of  their 
plot. 

"If  Inza  should  be  spirited  away  at  the  last  moment, 
it  would  have  a  bad  effect  on  the  crew,"  Merriwell 
admitted  to  his  friends. 

"Why,  they  are  not  superstitious  children!"  said 
Bruce. 

"We  are  all  just  a  little  superstitious!" 

"Nothing  of  that  kind  would  ever  affect  me !"  Bruce 
lazily  drawled. 

"Then,  why  didn't  you  buy  that  opal  ring  that  you 
so  much  admired  the  other  day  ?  You  told  the  jeweler 
that  you  liked  it,  but  that  you  wouldn't  take  it  because 
opals  were  said  to  be  unlucky." 

"I  didn't  say  that  I  believed  they  were  unlucky,  did 
I?" 

"No,  but  you  let  the  beliefs  of  other  people  influence 
you,  and  you  wouldn't  take  the  ring.  Just  so  it  will 
be  with  the  crew.  They  really  don't  believe  in  the  in- 
fluence of  mascots,  but  it  will  affect  them  if  the  mascot 
should  strangely  disappear.  But  I  was  thinking  of 
Inza  more  than  of  the  crew.  Whether  the  crew  be- 
lieve in  anything  of  the  kind  or  not,  those  betting  men 
do.  Nearly  all  gamblers  and  betting  men  are  super- 
stitious. They  no  doubt  think  that  if  the  mascot  could 
be  spirited  away  their  chances  of  winning  would  be 
greatly  increased  by  that  fact  alone.  And  for  that 
reason  they  will  try  to  kidnap  Inza," 


34          Movements  at  Gale's  Ferry. 

'Take  her  away  on  Justin's  yacht  ?"  asked  Bruce. 

"I  only  wish  I  knew  what  their  plans  are." 

Merriwell  was  having  this  talk  with  his  friends  the 
night  before  the  boat-race.  Every  possible  precaution 
seemed  to  have  been  taken.  Faithful  Yale  men  were 
guarding  the  Lee  residence,  where  the  mascot  was 
staying.  Faithful  men  were  watching  that  no  harm 
came  to  Diamond  or  any  member  of  the  crew. 

Nevertheless,  at  that  moment,  the  three  men  whose 
mysterious  actions  and  words  have  been  to  some  ex- 
tent chronicled  were  dropping  down  to  the  boat-house 
in  the  rowboat,  shielded  by  the  darkness.  A  better 
night  for  their  purpose  could  not  have  been  found,  and 
no  member  of  the  boat's  crew  dreamed  of  the  blow  th>at 
was  about  to  be  struck. 

The  float  and  the  boat-house  were  gained  without 
discovery.  In  fact,  so  careful  had  the  three  men  been 
in  their  movements  that  afternoon  and  night  that  no 
one  knew  they  were  near  Gale's  Ferry  or  anywhere  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  river  and  boat-house. 

The  man  who  had  taken  the  wax  impression  of  the 
lock  of  the  boat-house  door  was  now  prepared  with  a 
key.  He  had  also  an  oar  that  seemed  the  exact  coun- 
terpart of  the  oars  used  by  the  Yale  crew.  With  these 
he  disappeared  in  the  darkness,  for  the  lantern  at  the 
float  gave  out  not  enough  light  to  make  great  his 
danger  of  discovery.  When  he  returned  to  the  boat 
he  seemed  to  carry  the  same  oar  he  had  taken  with 


Movements  at  Gale's  Ferry.          35 

him.  It  was  not  the  same,  however,  but  it  was  Jack 
Diamond's  oar. 

He  was  careful  to  make  no  noise  as  he  reentered  the 
boat  with  this  oar,  and  the  boat  was  then  pulled  swiftly 
and  silently  away,  for  the  oars  were  muffled,  and  made 
no  sound  in  the  oar-locks. 

The  men  did  not  return  to  the  point  from  which 
they  had  come,  but  disembarked  in  a  small,  wooded 
cove,  disappearing  in  the  woods,  and  soon  after  enter- 
ing a  tumble-down  house  which  sat  so  far  back  from 
the  river  that  its  presence  was  undreamed  of  by  most 
people  who  fancied  themselves  quite  familiar  with  the 
river  and  its  shores. 

Here  a  lantern  was  lighted,  and  the  man  with  the 
silk  hat  produced  a  tiny,  thin-bladed  saw  and  deftly 
sawed  into  the  oar. 

"No  trouble  about  sawing  into  wood,"  he  remarked, 
in  a  grim  sort  of  way.  "I've  sawed  through  iron  in 
my  time !  Last  time  I  was  in  hock  I  sawed  through  an 
iron  bar  that  was  nigh  about  as  big  as  this  oar." 

He  was  very  careful  in  his  work  and  sawed  into  the 
oar  only  a  little  "way — just  enough  to  weaken  it.  Then 
he  produced  some  sort  of  material  resembling  putty, 
only  it  was  of  the  same  color  as  the  oar,  and  worked  a 
portion  of  it  into  the  cut.  After  that  he  used  a  color- 
ing liquid.  When  done,  he  surveyed  his  work  by  the 
light  of  the  lantern. 


"No  matter  which  oar  the  stroke  gets  he'll  be  liable 
Co  break  it !"  one  of  the  men  remarked. 

"If  he  pulls  hard  enough!  This  oar  will  stand  a 
heavy  strain  now.  But  if  the  race  is  tight,  as  it  prob- 
ably will  be,  the  stroke  will  lay  back  on  that  oar  with 
all  his  might — and  it  will  go!  It's  sure  to  knock  the 
crew  out!" 

"But  if  they  break  it  in  practise  in  the  morning?" 

"We've  another  string  to  pull,  Reddy !  Don't  worry ! 
If  it's  broke,  it'll  be  broke.  But  I  don't  believe  the 
stroke  will  pull  hard  enough  in  any  practise  rowin'  to 
break  this.  I  want  him  to  break  it  when  the  race 
comes." 

Having  "fixed"  the  oar  to  their  satisfaction,  the  men 
returned  to  the  river  and  to  the  boat,  and  again  rowed 
to  the  float  and  the  boat-house. 

There  the  other  oar,  which  had  also  been  "fixed," 
and  which  had  been  left  to  deceive  any  one  vrho  might 
chance  to  enter  the  boat-house,  was  brought  away,  and 
Diamond's  oar,  apparently  not  changed  in  the  least, 
was  left  in  its  usual  place. 

There  was  some  practise  rowing  on  the  river  the 
next  morning — the  morning  of  the  great  race — but 
sharp  as  were  Diamond's  eyes,  he  did  not  discover  that 
the  ear  had  been  tampered  with,  and  the  oar  did  not 
break.  The  crew  returned  to  the  float,  with  the  ap- 
proval of  the  coach,  who  had  followed  them  in  a 
launch,  bellowing  at  them  through  his  megaphone. 


Movements  at  Gale's  Ferry.          37 

The  little  coxswain  was  pleased,  too.  The  crew  had 
never  seemed  to  row  in  finer  form.  He  was  especially 
satisfied  with  the  work  of  the  stroke,  and  was  liberal 
in  his  words  of  approval  to  Diamond. 

"If  Harvard  defeats  us  to-day,  it  will  be  because  she 
has  the  best  crew  she  has  ever  put  on  the  Thames," 
said  the  coach,  speaking  to  the  captain. 

Harvard's  crew  pulled  over  the  course  that  morn- 
ing, closely  watched  by  their  competitors.  But  Har- 
vard evidently  did  not  do  her  best,  and  the  fact  that 
watches  were  held  on  the  time  was  of  no  material  ad- 
vantage to  Yale. 

"If.  Harvard  does  no  better  than  that!"  said  Dia- 
mond. 

"Harvard  will  do  a  great  deal  better  than  that," 
said  the  coach.  "Harvard  can  beat  that  time  easy 
enough,  but  I  think  we  can  beat  Harvard  without  any 
trouble!" 

But  when  the  coach  made  this  statement  he  knew 
nothing  of  the  rascally  work  of  men  who  cared 
nothing  for  the  races,  but  were  resolved  to  throw  the 
race  to  Harvard  in  the  interest  of  the  bets  which  had 
been  so  heavily  laid  on  the  success  of  the  Crimson.  If 
the  coach  had  known,  he  would  have  trembled  for  the 
fate  of  the  Blue. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

TREACHERY  f 

Yale  woke  in  a  fever  of  excitement  on  the  morning 
of  the  great  boat-race.  That  is,  a  portion  of  Yale 
awoke.  Another  portion  had  not  gone  to  sleep.  In- ' 
deed,  there  was  not  any  too  much  sleeping  during  those 
last  days  of  excitement  that  were  crowded  into  com- 
mencement week.  Commencement  week  was  prac- 
tically ended.  Yet  there  was  one  more  great  event  to 
stir  the  blood  of  Yale.  That  was  the  boat-race  at  New 
London,  and  every  one  was  going. 

"Glad  I've  something  to  take  my  mind  off  my  troub- 
le!" said  Bruce  Browning,  strolling  into  Merriwell's 
room,  where  several  members  of  the  flock  were  assem- 
bled. 

Browning  did  not  appear  to  be  very  much  troubled, 
for  he  was  placidly  pulling  at  his  pipe.  Yet  Brown- 
ing, who  ought  to  have  graduated  with  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  senior  class,  had  failed  in  the  examinatkms 
and  been  turned  back  a  year.  Having  loafed  into  the 
room,  Browning  lazily  inquired  when  the  train  foK 
New  London  would  be  ready,  then  lazily  loafed  out 
again. 

"That  fellow  will  never  graduate!"  said  Dismal. 
"He's  just  too  lazy  to  study.  Another  year  at  Yale, 


Treachery !  39 

when  really  the  fellow  ought  to  have  gone  out  a  year 
agoT 

"I  don't  think  it's  troubling  him  much,  though," 
said  Bart. 

"Dud-dud-don't  anything  tut-tut-troubles  him!" 
stuttered  Gamp. 

"Just  so  he  gets  enough  rest !"  said  Jim  Hooker. 

"That  fellow!"  said  Rattleton,  straightening  up, 
for  he  had  been  stooping  over  a  chair  tying  a  bundle. 
"That  fellow !  He  failed  on  purpose — I  mean  he  failed 
purposely.  He  didn't  want  to  graduate — couldn't  have 
been  hired  to  graduate!" 

''Why?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Because  he  wants  to  stay  here  another  year  with 
Merry!" 

"Gug-gug-gug-goshf ry !     Dud-do  you  s'pose  so?" 

"Do  I  suppose  so?  I  know  it.  Troubled?  That 
fellow  is  as  happy  as  a  clam  at  high  tide." 

"And  as  lazy,"  grunted  Bart. 

New  Haven  seemed  to  be  quite  as  much  excited  as 
.Yale.  The  college  blue  was  seen  everywhere,  in  flags 
and  streamers  and  ribbons,  in  buttons  and  badges  and 
hatbands.  The  excursion-train  at  the  station  was 
packed  with  Yale  enthusiasts  long  before  the  time  for 
its  departure,  and  from  almost  every  window  there 
fluttered  the  familiar  blue. 

In  a  coach  set  apart  for  college  men,  Merriwell  had 
by  previous  arrangement  secured  seats  for  himself  and 


4O  Treachery ! 

friends,  including  Elsie  and  Inza,  who  was  to  go  to 
New  London  as  the  mascot  of  the  Yale  crew. 

"If  the  girls  aren't  careful  they  will  be  late!"  said 
Rattleton,  as  he  looked  at  his  watch  on  arriving  at  the 
station,  and  saw  that  the  time  for  the  train  to  leave 
was  near  at  hand. 

Merriwell  had  been  thinking  the  same. 

"Girls  are  always  slow  about  such  things  I"  growled 
Bart. 

"Well,  I  don't  want  this  train  to  go  without  the 
mascot!"  Diamond  remarked. 

Jack  Ready  had  been  sent  to  the  house  with  a  car- 
riage to  bring  the  girls  down  to  the  station. 

"There  they  come!"  cried  Rattleton,  as  he  saw  the 
carriage  approaching.  "Now  we're  all  right!" 

Ready  stepped  out  of  the  carriage  and  assisted  Elsie 
to  the  ground.  It  was  seen  that  she  was  much  excited, 
and  Ready  seemed  to  have  lost  his  usual  assurance. 
Seeing  that  the  carriage  did  not  contain  Inza,  Merri- 
well and  the  others  hurried  forward. 

"The  masc-ought  to  be  here!"  chirped  Ready,  with 
assumed  levity.  "But  she  isn't.  And  you  may  take 
my  head  for  a  football  if  I  know  where  she  is !" 

"The  servants  say  she  received  a  telegram  and  left 
the  house  more  than  an  hour  ago,"  Elsie  explained. 
"I  was  out  at  the  time,  but  I  can't  understand  why  she 
didn't  write  me  a  note.  We  haven't  the  least  idea  what 


Treachery !  41 

has  become  of  her.  I  was  trying  to  hope  that  she  was 
here." 

Merriwell  looked  at  his  watch  and  saw  that  the  train 
would  start  within  less  than  two  minutes. 

"Who  will  stay  here  and  make  a  search  for  Inza?" 
he  asked. 

Every  member  of  the  flock  volunteered. 

"I  want  to  stay  myself.  But  I  must  go  through  to 
New  London  and  Gale's  Ferry  to  see  that  everything1 
is  right  there.  The  scoundrels  have  struck  at  Inza! 
The  next  blow  will  be  at  Jack.  Bart  and  Harry  will 
remain  here  and  begin  a  search  for  Inza.  If  you  can 
find  her  in  time,  charter  an  engine  and  bring  her 
through !" 

The  departure  of  the  train  was  being  announced. 

"Perhaps  you'd  better  get  Dirk  to  help  you.  Good- 
by.  We  must  go  now." 

The  discovery  that  Inza  was  missing  cast  a  feeling 
of  gloom  over  the  flock.  Merriwell  did  not  believe 
that  Inza  would  be  harmed  in  any  way,  for  he  fancied 
that  behind  this  was  the  clever  hand  of  Justin  Lake, 
and  Lake  was  too  shrewd  a  fellow  to  entangle  himself 
very  deeply  in. the  meshes  of  the  law.  The  chances 
were  that  some  crafty  trick  had  been  used  to  draw  her 
away,  and  that  she  would  be  detained  by  deceit  rather 
than  by  force.  None  was  more  distressed  and  anxious 
than  Elsie. 

"We'll  keep  this  from  the  crew  as  long  as  we  can," 


42  Treachery ! 

Frank  warned.  "We'll  say  nothing  about  it  to  any 
one.  If  Bart  and  Harry  succeed,  they  will  get  her  to 
Gale's  Ferry  in  time,  and  no  one  but  ourselves  need  to 
know  what  has  been  done  until  after  the  race." 

It  was  a  two  hours'  trip  to  the  Thames,  and  those 
two  hours  were  filled  with  anxiety  for  Merriwell.  He 
sent  a  telegram  to  Jack,  warning  him  to  be  on  his 
guard,  without  informing  him  that  Inza  had  disap- 
peared. 

But  the  crushing  crowd  that  filled  the  cars  was  jovial 
and  happy.  It  believed  implicitly  that  Yale  would  win. 
It  sang,  it  shouted,  it  waved  flags  and  banners,  and  it 
told  innumerable  stories.  It  talked,  too,  of  the  gaieties 
of  commencement  week  and  of  the  solemnities  of  grad- 
uation. 

At  New  London  the  blue  hue  of  everything  became 
streaked  and  spotted  with  the  Harvard  crimson.  New 
London  was  filled  with  Harvard  adherents.  A  Har- 
vard train  was  there,  and  in  that  train  everything 
seemed  to  take  on  the  Harvard  hue.  Crimson  flags 
and  hats,  crimson  ribbons,  buttons,  and  shirt-waists. 

"I'd  rather  belong  to  the  Blue,"  said  a  pretty  girl, 
conversing  with  another  pretty  girl  in  blue.  "It  looks 
so  much  cooler !  Those  girls  over  there  look  as  if  they 
would  melt  in  those  hot,  crimson  things !" 

"But  if  you  want  to  paint  a  town  red,  crimson  is 
Just  the  thing!"  remarked  a  pale  young  man  with  a 
crimson  necktie,  standing  near  the  girl  who  had  spo- 


Treachery  I  43 

ken.  "If  Harvard  wins,  everything  will  be  crimson 
to-night.  Fireworks,  bonfires,  rockets — all  those 
things  lend  themselves  to  the  jolly  crimson  color  at 
such  a  time !" 

"But  Harvard  isn't  going  to  win!"  declared  the 
girl. 

"Perhaps  not!"  the  young  man  admitted,  crushed 
by  this  confident  rejoinder. 

The  sun  beat  down  with  fury  as  the  steaming  crowd 
sought  to  find  something  cool  to  eat  and  drink  before 
hurrying  over  to  the  observation-cars.  Merriwell  went 
to  the  telegraph  office,  hoping  for  a  word  from  Bart 
and  Rattleton,  or  from  Diamond.  Nothing  had  come* 
He  knew  by  this  that  Inza  had  not  been  found,  for  in 
that  case  Bart  would  have  wired  him  at  New  London. 

"We  will  win  this  race!"  he  declared,  as  he  set  his 
teeth  in  grim  determination.  "Inza  was  to  have  gone 
on  the  referee's  boat,  right  behind  the  crews,  and  of 
course  the  crew  is  bound  to  know  she  isn't  there.  But 
they're  sensible  fellows,  with  an  infinite  lot  of  pluck. 
This  won't  throw  them — though,  of  course,  I  wish  the 
mascot  were  here!  Now,  if  Jack  only  watches  to  see 
that  he  keeps  out  of  danger!  I  can't  imagine  what 
they  can  do  to  him !" 

Merriwell's  certainty  that  Yale  would  win  in  spite 
of  anything  the  opposition  could  do  served  in  a  large 
measure  to  restore  the  confidence  of  his  friends.  So, 
though  thev  were  anxious  about  Inza,  when  they  went 


44  Treachery! 

over  to  the  observation-cars  for  the  run  to  the  racing- 
isvaters,  they  were  in  a  much  better  frame  of  mind  con- 
cerning the  outcome  than  they  had  been. 

The  observation-train  in  motion  resembled  a  long, 
moving  grand  stand.  It  consisted  chiefly  of  flat-cars,  on 
which  seats  rose  in  tiers,  facing  toward  the  river ;  and 
its  purpose  was  to  run  along  the  shore  from  the  start- 
ing-point to  the  place  of  finish,  keeping  even  pace  with 
the  contesting  boats,  thus  enabling  all  who  were  fortu- 
nate enough  to  have  seats  to  view  the  entire  boat-race. 
There  was  a  great  scramble  for  seats,  and  those  who 
had  not  secured  them  in  advance  found  it  almost  im- 
possible to  obtain  them  now. 

The  train  started  at  last  with  a  jerk,  and  the  people 
on  the  cars  began  to  yell.  They  were  away  for  the 
boat-race,  and  they  were  wild.  Some  of  the  cars  of 
this  moving  grand  stand  were  solid  masses  of  blue, 
others  masses  of  crimson.  On  other  cars  the  blue  and 
the  crimson  were  mixed  together  in  dire  confusion. 
Often  in  a  car  there  would  be  an  area  of  blue,  showing 
where  Yale  sympathizers  were  bunched  together,  and 
near-by  a  bunch  of  crimson,  outlining  a  knot  of  the 
friends  of  Harvard.  Everywhere  blue  and  crimson 
parasols  were  waving,  blue  and  crimson  handkerchiefs 
were  flying,  blue  and  crimson  ribbons  were  fluttering, 
blue  and  crimson  flags  were  streaming  in  the  breeze. 

Merriwell's  party  was  not  in  one  of  the  grand-stand 
cars,  but  in  an  ordinary  coach  near  the  head  of  the 


Treachery !  45 

train.  In  another  ordinary  coach  ahead  of  that  rode 
a  number  of  the  friends  and  stanch  adherents  of  Har- 
vard. The  shouts  for  Yale  from  one  car  were  flung 
back  from  the  other  with  cries  for  the  rival  crew.  In 
one  of  the  grand-stand  cars  a  group  of  young  ladies 
in  crimson  shirt-waists  were  singing  "Fair  Harvard." 

Merriwell  was  not  paying  much  attention  to  these 
things,  for  his  mind  was  given  to  thoughts  of  Inza 
and  in  trying  to  determine  the  particular  line  in  which 
danger  would  come  to  Jack  Diamond.  He  hardly 
heard  the  jests  and  quips  of  his  friends,  and  replied  in 
monotones  and  short  sentences  when  addressed.  Elsie 
was  much  distressed,  and  could  think  of  nothing  but 
Inza  and  wonder  what  had  befallen  her.  At  length 
Merriwell  rose  from  his  seat  and  strolled  through  the 
car.  By  and  by  he  left  the  car  to  enter  the  one  for- 
ward. As  he  did  so,  he  came  on  a  sight  that  staggered 
him. 

On  the  platform  of  the  forward  car  Jack  Diamond 
was  struggling  fiercely  in  the  grip  of  a  rough-looking 
man,  who  seemed  determined  to  hurl  him  under  the 
train. 

How  did  Diamond  come  to  be  there?  Merriwell 
could  not  guess,  and  he  had  not  time  to  inquire.  The 
man  with  whom  Jack  was  struggling  looked  as  rough 
and  coarse  as  a  tramp,  but  when  Merriwell  saw  his 
face  he  recognized  him  as  one  of  the  three  conspirators 
he  had  seen  at  Gale's  Ferrv  and  in  New  Haven.  The 


46  Treachery ! 

man  had,  by  a  change  of  clothing,  almost  completely 
altered  his  appearance. 

The  fellow  held  Diamond  by  the  throat  and  was 
pushing  him  back  against  the  railing.  He  was  a 
stronger  and  heavier  man  than  Jack.  Nevertheless, 
the  Virginian  was  making  a  tremendous  fight,  and 
struggling  to  break  the  choking  grip  of  his  antagonist. 

The  train  was  not  running  at  high  speed,  but  there 
were  some  curves  along  the  river,  and  it  was  jerking 
round  these  in  a  way  that  threatened  to  pitch  both 
Jack  and  the  man  under  the  cars. 

"Help!"  Diamond  called,  when  he  saw  Frank.  With 
a  spring,  Frank  placed  himself  at  Diamond's  side.  The 
door  was  banged  shut  by  the  swing  of  the  train,  and 
the  three  were  there  between  the  cars  engaged  in  what 
seemed  a  life-and-death  struggle. 

The  cars  were  not  vestibuled,  and  at  a  sharp  turn 
Merriwell  was  flung  outward  so  suddenly  that  he  only 
saved  himself  from  being  pitched  from  the  train  by 
grasping  the  railing.  Jack  was  clinging  also  to  the 
railing  with  one  hand  and  trying  to  beat  the  man  off 
by  heavy  blows  with  the  other. 

"I'll  kill  ye  both !"  the  man  snarled,  swinging  heav- 
ily at  Merriwell,  with  a  blow  which,  had  it  landed 
fairly,  would  have  knocked  Frank  into  a  state  of  in- 
sensibility. 

Frank  cleverly  dodged  it,  and  came  back  with  such  a 


Treachery !  47 

jolting  lick  that  the  man's  grip  of  Diamond's  throat 
was  shaken  loose. 

A  heavy  ale-bottle  came  out  of  the  man's  pocket, 
flashing  like  a  drawn  weapon,  and  descended  with 
crushing  force  on  Diamond's  head. 

Jack  staggered  and  blindly  put  up  his  hands,  and 
would  have  tumbled  between  the  cars,  but  for  Merri- 
well's  outstretched  hand,  which  caught  and  saved  him 
from  a  fatal  fall.  Then  Diamond  pitched  heavily  over 
on  the  platform  of  the  car  and  lay  in  a  heap. 

"Curse  you !"  the  man  snarled,  again  lifting  the  ale- 
bottle  and  striking  at  Merriwell. 

Frank  was  hampered,  for  he  had  put  out  a  foot 
to  keep  Jack  from  the  peril  of  a  fall  down  the  car- 
steps.  But  he  warded  off  the  blow  from  the  bottle, 
and,  catching  hold  of  it,  tore  it  from  the  hands  of  the 
man  and  flung  it  from  the  car. 

"Curse  ye !"  the  man  grated  again,  lunging  this  time 
with  his  fist.  The  engine  whistle  screeched,  showing 
that  the  train  was  approaching  a  crossing.  The  roar 
of  the  train  had  kept  the  sounds  of  the  struggle  from 
being  heard. 

Merriwell  knocked  aside  this  blow,  but  the  man 
came  at  him  again  so  fiercely  that  Frank  was  forced 
to  remove  the  foot  from  Diamond's  side  and  fight  for 
his  life. 

T.he  combat  that  followed  was  of  a  desperate  char- 


48  Treachery ! 

acter.  The  man  seemed  to  realize  that  he  was  fighting 
for  his  liberty,  if  not  for  his  life,  and  he  closed  on  Mer- 
riwell  with  a  bearlike  hug,  to  escape  the  blows  which 
Frank  began  to  rain  in  his  face.  Merriwell  felt  the 
breath  almost  squeezed  from  his  body  under  that  tre- 
mendous pressure.  The  man  had  a  grip  of  iron ! 

"Curse  ye,  I'll  kill  ye!"  the  man  panted,  as  he  and 
Merriwell  waved  to  and  fro  between  the  bouncing 
cars. 

The  man  swayed  toward  the  left,  and  Merriwell 
tried  to  trip  him,  but  failed,  and  again  they  staggered 
back  and  forth,  each  moment  in  danger  of  tumbling 
from  the  cars  to  their  death. 

"I'll  kill  ye!"  the  man  hissed,  tightening  that  ter- 
rible pressure. 

Again  Merriwell  tried  that  tripping  trick.  This 
time  he  succeeded.  The  man  not  only  fell,  but  he  shot 
over  the  railing  of  the  car  and  seemed  about  to  fall 
between  the  cars  to  the  track.  As  he  fell  he  uttered  a 
cry  of  alarm,  which  changed  into  a  shriek.  But  his 
fall  was  almost  instantly  checked,  for  Merriwell 
caught  him  as  he  descended  and  held  him  thus  with  his 
muscular  right  hand. 

The  man  had  swung  outward  as  he  fell.  Now,  as 
his  body  dropped  downward,  it  was  pinched  between 
the  cars,  but  still  upheld  by  Merriwell's  ironlike  grip. 
The  horror  written  in  the  man's  face  as  he  looked  up- 
ward into  the  eyes  of  his  foe  cannot  be  pictured.  It 


Treachery !  49 

was  the  despairing  expression  of  one  who  expects  to 
be  instantly  ground  to  pieces. 

But  Merriwell's  iron  hold  was  not  broken.  The 
color  began  to  come  back  into  the  man's  white  face. 

"Save  me!"  he  panted. 

"I  ought  to  let  you  go!"  Merriwell  hissed. 

Then  that  dangerous  laugh  came  to  his  lips.  "You 
scoundrel !  It  would  serve  you  right  if  I  should  drop 
you  between  the  cars  and  let  the  train  do  its  worst!'* 

The  words  were  panted,  rather  than  spoken. 

"Save  me!"  the  man  begged. 

"You  have  killed  Diamond!" 

"Save  me!" 

"You  tried  to  kill  me!" 

The  wretch  gurgled  his  appeal,  while  his  eyes  rolled 
wildly.  He  was  being  painfully  pinched  between  the 
swaying  cars,  and  he  felt  that  his  end  had  come. 

"You  and  your  pals  have  lured  Inza  away !  Where 
is  she?  Will  you  tell  me?  Will  you  tell  the  truth 
about  that  conspiracy,  if  I  save  you  ?  Quick !" 

"Y-es !"  the  man  gurgled. 

Merriwell  trfed  to  lift  him  up.    But  he  could  not. 

"Save  me!  Oh,  save  me!"  the  wretch  wailed. 
"Save  me!" 

But  it  began  to  seem  that  it  was  not  in  Merri- 
well's power  to  save  him.  The  man's  big  body  could 
not  be  drawn  up  between  the  cars,  for  the  cars  came 


5O  Treachery! 

too  near  together,  and  Frank's  strength  was  not  suffi- 
cient to  swing  the  man  bodily  outward  and  so  release 
him. 

Twice  Merriwell  put  forth  every  ounce  of  strength 
x  in  an  effort  to  do  this,  and  failed.  He  called  for  help, 
but  the  whistle  was  screeching  again  and  no  one  heard 
him.  Still,  he  did  not  despair,  and  he  did  not  let  go 
his  hold.  Again  he  called  for  help  when  the  scream  of 
the  whistle  ceased.  Jack's  senseless  body  seemed 
about  to  slip  down  the  steps  and  bounce  to  the  ground. 

Merriwell  was  about  to  call  again,  when  Browning 
stumbled  through  the  doorway.  He  had  come  forward 
looking  for  Frank,  but  had  not  heard  the  call.  In- 
stantly he  took  in  the  situation,  and  as  quickly  his 
look  changed.  With  a  bound,  he  crossed  the  inter- 
vening distance. 

"Just  a  minute !    Hang  on  to  him,  Merry !" 

Bruce  was  not  one  to  lose  his  head.  Diamond's 
peril  looked  to  be  greater  than  that  of  the  man  whom 
Merriwell  was  holding,  for  Jack  seemed  about  to 
bound  off  the  platform.  Bruce  grasped  Jack  and  drew 
him  up  to  a  safer  place,  noting  as  he  did  so  that  Dia- 
mond seemed  to  be  stirring  into  life — a  thing  which 
had  probably  helped  him  to  slip  toward  the  steps. 

Bruce  turned  from  Diamond  and  came  to  Merri- 
well's  assistance.  His  big,  strong  hands  went  down; 
and,  taking  the  man  by  the  shoulders,  he  swung  him 
outward  and  upward  almost  as  easily  as  if  the  man 


Treachery!  51 

had  been  a  child.  The  rascal  was  white  and  shaking, 
but  he  staggered  at  once  to  his  feet. 

"Look  out  for  Jack!"  Merriwell  cautioned,  moving 
to  lay  a  hand  on  the  man's  shoulder.  "We  are  to  have 
an  explanation  out  of  this  fellow!" 

The  man  stumbled  backward  as  if  to  escape  that 
outstretched  hand — and  fell  from  the  train!  Merri- 
well saw  him  strike  the  embankment  and  roll  down 
into  the  ditch,  but  whether  he  was  seriously  injured 
or  not  he  could  not  tell. 

The  whistle  screeched  again,  and  the  train  began  to 
reduce  its  speed.  Browning  was  helping  Diamond  to 
his  feet,  and  Jack  was  opening  his  eyes.  A  trickle  of 
blood  had  run  down  from  under  his  hair  and  stained 
his  face.  The  ale-bottle  had  delivered  a  terrible  blow. 

"We'll  get  him  back  there  into  the  car!"  said  Brown- 
ing. "He  needs  attention.  How  did  this  happen? 
And  who  was  that  scoundrel?  We  ought  to  have 
let  him  go  under  the  train  1" 

The  sight  of  the  injury  received  by  Diamond 
brought  this  bloodthirsty  speech  to  Brace's  lips. 
Browning  picked  Jack  up  in  his  strong  arms  and  bore 
him  tenderly  into  their  car,  Merriwell  opening1  the 
door  to  let  him  through.  Their  appearance  created 
a  sensation.  Several  sprang  up  to  help  Bruce,  and  two 
car  seats  were  quickly  turned  into  a  cushioned  lounge. 
Everybody  was  asking  questions. 

Merriwell  hastened  away  to  ascertain  if  a  surgeon 


52  Treachery  I 

could  be  had  on  the  train  and  to  report  the  fall  of  the 
man  to  the  conductor.  He  did  not  want  the  man  to 
escape,  feeling  that  by  threats  and  questions  the  whole 
secret  of  the  conspiracy  against  Yale  could  be  laid 
bare. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A   GLOOMY   OUTLOOK. 

"That  was  what  brought  me!"  said  Diamond,  ta- 
king a  telegram  from  a  pocket  and  handing  it  to  Bruce. 

The  train  had  stopped.  It  had  reached  the  end  of 
its  journey  shortly  after  the  man  stumbled  backward 
from  the  train.  Jack  had  been  taken  from  the  car 
and  was  now  resting  quietly  under  a  big  awning  be- 
side the  track.  His  head  was  bandaged,  and  it  ached 
furiously.  The  skin  had  been  lain  open,  but  the  skull 
had  not  been  fractured,  though  the  blow  from  the  ale- 
bottle  had  seemed  to  fall  heavily  enough  to  break  the 
head  of  an  ox. 

This  was  the  telegram: 

"Meet  me  at  New  London.     Important. 

"MERRY." 

It  was  addressed  to  Diamond,  and  it  ha3  been  sent 
from  New  Haven. 

Elsie  was  wetting  a  cloth  to  apply  to  Jack's  head. 
Bruce  passed  the  telegram  over  to  her. 

"I'm  sure  Merriwell  never  sent  that,"  said  Bruce. 
"He  would  have  spoken  of  it  if  he  had.  If  he  had 
expected  Jack  to  meet  him  at  New  London  he  would 
have  said  something  about  it.  It's  a  fraud !" 


54  A  Gloomy  Outlook. 

Jack  Ready  looked  at  it. 

"The  fellow  who  sent  that  was  immensely  clever,  f 
fancy  it  would  be  hard  to  make  a  case  of  forgery  out 
of  it.  It  isn't  signed  with  Merriwell's  name,  you  see. 
If  we  could  find  the  very  man  who  sent  it,  he  could 
find  a  hole  in  that  big  enough  to  slip  through.  I 
thought  all  the  cleverness  was  in  Yale,  but  I  see  that  it 
isn't!" 

"There  won't  be  any  left  there  when  you  leave  col- 
lege!" said  Danny. 

"But  I  shall  be  spared  to  Yale  for  three  whole  years 
yet.  When  this  cheering  fact  was  made  known  to  the 
faculty  yesterday  they  passed  a  vote  of  congratula-; 
tion." 

"I  showed  that  telegram  to  the  captain  and  the 
coach,  and  they  said  that  I  would  have  time  to  meet 
Merry  at  New  London,  if  I  came  right  back  on  the 
observation-car,"  Diamond  explained. 

Dismal  looked  dolefully  down  his  nose. 

"But  you  won't  be  able  to  row !  You  will  not  be  fi> 
to  sit  in  a  boat  and  pull  an  oar  for  a  week!" 

"And  that  was  what  the  fellows  planned — just  to 
knock  me  out!" 

Diamond  was  looking  quite  as  serious  as  Dismal. 
None  of  the  party  was  in  a  jocular  mood.  Even  Bink 
and  Danny  were  as  solemn  as  a  pair  of  little  screech 
owls.  Once  or  twice  they  tried  to  raise  a  laugh,  but 
their  spirits  were  not  equal  to  it.  They  felt  that  with 


A  Gloomy  Outlook.  55 

the  mascot  gone,  and  Diamond,  the  stroke,  unable  to 
put  hand  to  oar,  the  chances  of  Yale  were  very  wobbly, 
to  say  the  least. 

"I  couldn't  find  you  people  at  New  London,  the 
crush  was  so  great.  And  I  couldn't  get  a  seat,  for  all 
the  seats  had  been  taken  in  advance.  So  I  climbed  on 
the  engine,  and  learning,  after  the  train  started,  that 
your  party  was  in  one  of  the  closed  cars,  I  made  my 
way  back  over  the  tender  and  through  the  cars.  When 
I  started  to  pass  to  your  car,  that  villain  assaulted  me. 
I  don't  know  whether  he  wanted  to  throw  me  under 
the  car  or  not,  but  he  was  determined  to  beat  and 
choke  me  half  to  death.  I  think  he  was  stealing  a 
ride,  I  guess  I  should  have  gone  under  the  car  all 
right,  if  Merry  hadn't  appeared." 

"The  fellow  had  been  following  you !"  said  Dismal. 
"No  doubt  about  that,  I  guess.  The  wicked  triumph 
and  flourish  like  a  green  bay-tree !" 

"And  bounce  down  embankments  like  rolling 
stones!"  said  Ready.  "Glad  I'm  not  wicked  I" 

"I'm  just  worried  to  death  about  Inza!"  Elsie  ex- 
claimed. A  messenger  boy  appeared  with  a  telegram 
for  Merriwell." 

"He's  coming  right  there!"  said  Dismal,  pointing 
down  the  track  with  his  long  forefinger. 

Merriwell  had  gone  back  with  Gamp  and  some 
of  the  trainmen  to  ascertain  what  had  become  of  the 
trampish-looking  fellow  who  had  fallen  from  the  train. 


56  A  Gloomy  Outlook. 

They  had  not  found  him.  But  in  the  spot  where  Mer- 
riwell  half-expected  to  come  on  his  crushed  and  man- 
gled body,  they  discovered  bloody  marks  on  the  soil, 
which  showed  that  the  man  had  been  injured.  Though 
the  indications  were  that  his  injuries  were  serious,  he 
had  been  able  to  crawl  away  and  conceal  himself  so 
that  he  could  not  be  found.  Merriwell  was  much 
disappointed,  for  he  had  hoped  if  the  man  were  living 
and  conscious  that  the  story  of  the  conspiracy  against 
the  Yale  boat  crew  could  be  obtained  from  him  in  its 
entirety. 

Jack  Ready  hurried  to  Frank  with  the  telegram. 

"From  Bart,"  said  Merriwell,  as  he  tore  it  open 
and  looked  at  it.  "  'No  trace.  Making  no  headway. 
Dirk  puzzled.'  That  boat-race  will  have  to  go  on 
•vithout  the  mascot  and  without  the  stroke!" 

"And  that  means  defeat!"  said  Ready. 

"No.  We  will  win,  anyway.  We  must  win !  These 
•scoundrels  shall  not  triumph!" 

A  look  of  admiration  came  into  Ready's  round  face. 

"Whatever  Merry  says  gug-gug-goes !"  stuttered 
Gamp,  with  beaming  countenance.  "We're  gug-gug- 
gug-going  to  b-bub-beat  'em,  anyhow!" 

"Determination  is  the  war  balloon  that  lifts  us  to 
the  top  of  the  kopje.  If  you  say  it  can  be  done,  Mer- 
riwell, I'm  bound  to  believe  you.  But  it  has  seemed 
to  me  that  we're  up  against  something  tougher  than 
a  Boer  laager!" 


A  Gloomy  Outlook.  57 

"If  we  only  had  some  lager!"  murmured  Dismal, 
who  had  joined  them. 

"I  suppose  you'd  take  it  in  the  nek  ?"  Ready  ques- 
tioned. 

"You'd  take  it  any  way  you  could  get  it!"  Dismal 
retorted. 

"Sir,  I  am  a  temperance  advocate.  But  you  can 
bet  there's  always  a  hot  time  when  the  Boer  is  in  the* 
laager  and  the  lager's  in  the  nek!  For  further  par- 
ticulars, ask  the  British!" 

"We  must  beat  those  fellows!"  Merriwell  again 
declared.  "We  can  do  it  anyway,  and  we  will !  How 
is  Jack?" 

He  was  walking  on  again. 

"Jack  is  a  Diamond  of  the  purest  water !  He  would 
try  to  pull  that  stroke-oar  though  he  can  hardly  hold 
his  head  up;  but  the  doctor  said  it  would  be  suicidal 
1  for  him  to  attempt  it,  and  I've  braced  up  the  doctor's 
opinion  with  one  of  my  own  to  the  same  effect.  Yes, 
Diamond  got  it  in  the  neck — and  unless  you've  some 
beautiful  plan  to  pull  us  out  of  the  hole  the  boat's  crew 
will  get  it  in  the  same  place.  But  I'm  tying  to  you, 
Merriwell,  tying  to  you — as  the  tin-can  said  to  the 
tail  of  the  dog  when  it  was  under  the  manipulations  of 
the  small  boy's  fingers.  No  offense  when  I  compare 
you  to  a  dog — there  are  various  kinds  of  dogs !" 

"Looks  as  if  we're  knocked  out  now!"  said  Bruce, 


58  A  Gloomy  Outlook. 

as  he  loafed  out  to  meet  Merriwell,  concealing  his 
deep  anxiety  under  a  placid  show  of  indifference. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it!  Take  a  brace,  Bruce!  We  must 
win  against  those  fellows.  We  can  do  it  yet,  and  we 
must !" 

"I'm  willing!"  said  Bruce.     "Just  show  us  how!" 


What  had  become  of  Inza  Burrage,  the  Mascot  of 
the  Crew? 

A  telegram  had  come  to  her,  purporting  to  be  f  rom 
her  father.  It  was  sent  from  a  small  village  beyond 
New  Haven,  whither  Bernard  Burrage  had  gone  the 
day  before  on  a  visit  to  some  friends.  This  was  the 
telegram : 

"Your  father  stricken  down  with  shock.  Come  at 
once.  SUSAN  ANSELM." 

Susan  Anselm  was  the  wife  of  the  man  whom  Ber- 
nard Burrage  had  gone  to  visit.  Burrage  had  long 
been  an  invalid,  and  something  of  the  kind  that  now 
seemed  to  have  befallen  him  had  been  at  times  much 
feared  by  Inza.  She  did  not  stop  to  question  the 
genuineness  of  the  telegram.  Elsie  had  gone  out  into 
the  city,  and  Winnie  was  away  with  Buck  Badger,  her 
husband,  on  a  short  wedding  trip. 

Wildly  anxious  to  hasten  to  the  bedside  of  her 
lather,  Inza  had  written  a  note  to  Elsie,  which  she 


Gloomy  Outlook.  59 

4 

left  on  her  table,  explaining  everything  and  telling 
Elsie  to  hurry  the  news  to  Frank.  Then  she  had 
hastily  thrown  a  few  things  into  a  little  traveling-bag! 
and  had  left  the  house,  hurrying  at  once  to  the  station 
to  take  the  first  train  which  would  rush  her  to  her 

father's  bedside.    If  that  note  had  been  received,  much 

\ 

anxiety  would  have  been  spared  her  friends,  but  it  was 
not  received.    The  butler,  who  had  assisted  Justin  Lake 
on  another  occasion,  contrived  to  get  the  note  and 
destroy  it,  and  Elsie  was  deprived  of  all  knowledge  x 
of  Inza's  plans. 

On  arriving  in  the  village  and  hastening  to  th«  ^ 
home  of  her  friend,  Inza  found  that  she  had  been  de-  .; 
ceived.     Her  father  was  in  his  usual  health,  and  was  ; 
immensely  surprised  when  he  learned  why  she  had 
come. 

Inza's  quick  wit  saw  through  the  trick  at  once. 

"They  have  side-tracked  the  mascot  out  here !"  said 
Burrage,  laughing. 

"But  she  isn't  going  to  stay  side-tracked !"  Inza  de- 
clared. "There  is  a  train  back  for  New  London  sooa. 
I  believe  I  shall  have  time  to  catch  that  observation- 
car  yet !" 

Thereupon  she  kissed  her  father  good-by  and  har- 
ried back  to  the  station  to  catch  the  train  for  New 
London.  Before  the  train  came  in  she  found  time 
to  send  a  telegram  to  Frank  in  New  Haven. 

When  the  train  pulled  into  New  London,  the  olv 


fo  A  Gloomy  Outlook. 

servation-car  had  pulled  out.  She  was  in  despair. 
The  boat-race  would  begin  near  Gale's  Ferry  on  the 
river  almost  as  soon  as  the  observation-car  reached 
there.  She  knew  that. 

"If  I  were  a  millionaire!"  she  sighed,  as  she  stoed 
in  the  New  London  waiting-room  and  racked  her  brain 
for  a  plan.  "If  I  were  a  millionaire  I'd  hire  a  special 
train  to  take  me  up  the  river;  but  being  only  a  com- 
mon mortal,  I  shall  have  to  wait  for  the  next  train 
— or  walk!  I  wonder  if  Frank  received  that  tele- 
gram ?" 

She  had  hoped  that  Frank  would  have  some  one  at 
the  station  to  meet  her,  or  that  he  would  be  there 
himself. 

"He  didn't  get  the  telegram,  I  know,  and  he  has 
now  gone  on  in  the  observation-train.  Oh,  dear !  what 
shall  I  do?  I  think  I'll  send  him  another  telegram!" 

Merriwell  had  not  received  the  telegram,  for  he 
had  left  New  Haven.  However,  it  was  taken  to  his 
room  for  delivery,  and  there  fell  into  the  hands  of  Bart 
Hodge  and  Harry  Rattleton. 

"It's  strictly  against  my  principles  to  pry  into  peo- 
ple's mail  or  telegraph  matter,"  said  Hodge,  after  he 
had  receipted  in  Merriwell's  name  for  the  message,  a 
thing  that  any  member  of  the  flock  was  privileged  to 
do  when  a  telegram  came  for  one  of  the  number  in  his 
absence.  "It's  against  my  principles,  but  I  feel,  some 
way,  that  Merry  ought  to  know  what  is  in  this,  Prob- 


A  Gloomy  Outlook.  61 

ably  it  is  so  important  that  we  ought  to  resend  it  tfll 
him  at  once." 

Rattleton  had  the  same  feeling,  and  after  discussing 
the  matter  and  becoming  more  and  more  convinced 
that  under  the  circumstances  this  was  what  they  ought 
to  do,  Bart  opened  the  message  and  found  that  it  was 
from  Inza. 

"Whoop!"  shouted  Rattleton.  "And  she  is  on  her 
way  to  New  London !  We'd  better  trake  a  rain — take 
a  train  for  New  London,  too,  as  soon  as  we  can." 

"And  forward  this  right  on  to  Merry!" 

Thereupon  they  hastened  to  the  station,  rewired  the 
message  and  found  a  train  leaving  for  New  London. 
It  was  a  regular  train,  and  not  an  excursion-train, 
however. 

"Oh,  if  I  were  a  millionaire!"  Inza  sighed,  as  she 
walked  up  and  down  the  waiting-room,  after  sending 
that  last  message  to  Frank,  and  wildly  wondering  how 
she  could  get  on  to  Gale's  Ferry.  "I  must  get  up 
there  before  the  race  begins." 

Going  to  an  official,  she  questioned  as  to  the  de- 
parture of  other  trains  for  the  scene  of  the  boat- 
race.  No  others  were  going  soon.  A  train  had  rolltd 
into  the  station,  but  it  gave  her  no  hope. 

"It  must  be  almost  time  for  the  race  to  begin!" 
she  thought,  as  she  looked  at  her  tiny  watch.  "And 
the  mascot  is  here,  when  she  ought  to  be  there!  U 
I  could  only  hear  from  Frank!  I  must  get  up  there, 


62  A  Gloomy  Outlook. 

somehow!  I'll  see  that  official  again.  Perhaps  the 
distance  isn't  so  great  but  that  I  can  get  there  in  a 
carriage  or  cab.  Why  didn't  I  think  of  that  before? 
I  must  get  up  there  before  that  race  begins!" 

Frank's  iron  determination  seemed  to  be  reproduced 
in  Inza's  character.  In  truth,  his  unbending  wiH  and 
unconquerable  energy,  which  had  so  often  plucked  vic- 
tory out  of  the  jaws  of  defeat  had  been  so  impressed 
on  all  of  his  friends  that  difficulties  which  would  bring 
despair  to  others  only  stimulated  them  to  greater  ac- 
tivity. 

As  she  turned  about  for  the  purpose  of  again  con- 
sulting the  official,  a  small  hand-car,  of  the  spidery 
kind  known  as  a  railroad  velocipede,  was  wheeled  out 
of  a  shed  at  the  side  of  the  station  and  placed  on  the 
track.  It  was  a  mere  framework  of  a  car,  with  three 
light,  iron-bound  wooden  wheels,  intended  to  be  run 
at  a  high  rate  of  speed.  Inza  turned  toward  this 
car,  wondering  if  it  would  not  furnish  the  means  she 
sought. 

"Would  it  be  possible  to  hire  this  car  and  some 
one  to  take  me  up  the  railway  to  the  boat-race?"  she 
asked. 

"Already  hired!"  said  the  man  who  had  brought 
it  out  of  the  shed,  and  who  did  not  seem  pleased. 
"Something  I  never  knew  to  be  done  before,  too! 
ain't  built  for  an  observation-train !" 

Inza's  heart  sank. 


A  Gloomy  Outlook.  63 

"Is  there  another  here?"  she  anxiously  questioned, 

"No,  miss!" 

"Could  I  get  there  in  a  carriage  and ' 

"Whoop!" 

^ 

A  familiar  shout  sounded  almost  in  her  ears.  She 
turned  and  saw  Harry  Rattleton  and  Bart  Hodge. 
Harry's  face  was  beaming  with  delight. 

"The  mascot !"  he  screeched.  "Whoop  f  We'll  beat 
'em  yet!" 

The  man  looked  at  Harry  as  if  he  fancied  he  had 
gone  crazy ;  for  Harry  was  not  only  whooping,  he  was 
dancing  about  like  a  lunatic.  A  smile  also  rested  on 
the  dark  face  of  Bart  Hodge. 

"We  knew  you  were  on  your  way!"  he  said.  "We 
received  the  message  you  sent  to  Merry.  He's  on 
the  ©bservation-train." 

"Been  hunting  for  you  all  over  New  Haven,"  Rat- 
tleton explained.  "Couldn't  find  you,  and  here  you 
are.  Now  we'll  hit  the  track!" 

"Can't  three  ride  on  this  car!"  the  man  grumbled, 
seeing  that  it  was  the  intention  of  these  young  men 
to  take  Inza  on  the  car  with  them. 

"If  we  had  time  we  would  try  to  get  an  engine!'*  j 
said  Hodge.    "But  it  will  take  time  to  do  that,  and  we 
might  fail  in  getting  one,  after  all.    We've  hired  this 
and  we'll  have  to  try  to  get  through  on  it." 

Rattleton  was  looking  at  the  little  car  with  sobered 
face. 


64  A  Gloomy  Outlook, 

"Say!"  he  suddenly  exclaimed.     "That  thing-  will 

go  a  good  deal  faster  with  only  two  on  it.     I'll  stay 

behind,  Bart,  and  get  through  the  best  way  I  can, 

while  you  take  Inza.    That  will  be  better !    I  can  howl 

*  for  you  and  wish  you  success!" 

"And  miss  seeing  the  race?" 

Rattleton's  face  was  very  grave. 

"That's  all  right,  Hodge.  You  can  pull  that  thing 
through  faster  than  I  can.  There  isn't  room  for  three. 
I'd  give  a  million  dollars  to  see  that  race,  but  I'll  stay, 
just  the  same.  We  want  to  win,  you  know,  and  we've 
got  to  get  the  mascot  there!  I'm  willing  to  stay! 
Just  so  Yale  wins !  Tumble  on  there,  and  I'll  give  you 
a  shove!" 

"It's  too  bad!"  said  Inza. 

"That's  all  right !"  Harry  cried.  "No  time  for  talk ! 
No  time  for  argument!  If  you're  going,  you  must 
go!" 

All  knew  that  this  was  true. 

"Just  get  there,  Hodge!  That's  all!  You  can 
doit!" 

Hodge  dropped  to  the  seat  and  put  his  hands  and 
feet  on  the  levers.  Inza  took  the  one  seat  forward. 
There  was  literally  no  room  for  another  passenger. 

Harry  Rattleton  gave  the  velocipede  a  push  and  sent 
it  spinning  along  the  rails.  Hodge  began  to  pull  and 
push  on  the  levers  and  the  speed  of  the  spidery  car 
increased. 


A  Gloomy  Outlook.  65 

"You  must  get  there,  old  man!  Get  there!  You 
can  make  it!  Now,  drive  her!  Drive  her!" 

The  little  car  shot  away  from  the  station  and  up 
the  track,  with  Rattleton  unselfishly  waving  his  hat 
and  yelling  his  encouragement. 

The  last  words  that  floated  to  them  from  him  was 
the  old  yell  that  had  so  often  thundered  over  the 
waters. 

"Hooray  for  the  Mascot  of  the  Crew!" 

"We'll  get  there!"  Inza  exclaimed,  looking  again  at 
her  tiny  watch,  while  her  bright  eyes  sparkled. 

"Sure!"  said  Bart,  with  grim  determination,  while 
the  levers  seemed  to  fly.  "We've  got  to  get  there !" 


CHAPTER  VI. 

YALE   AGAINST   HARVARD. 

Che  time  set  for  the  boat-race  was  almost  at  hand. 
For  hours  steamers  from  New  Haven,  New  York, 
and  Boston,  crowded  with  spectators,  had  been  arri- 
ving and  slowly  working  their  way  to  favorable  points 
on  the  river.  Steam  and  sailing  yachts,  with  red  and 
blue*  streamers  flying,  plowed  the  waters,  maneuver- 
ing for  good  positions.  Smaller  boats  skipped  about 
like  water-bugs. 

The  long  observation-trains  from  New  London  were 
drawn  up  opposite  the  starting-line. 

With  bandaged  head  and  pale  face,  Jack  Diamond 
sat  in  the  observation-train  with  Elsie  and  other 
friends,  looking  out  upon  the  Thames. 

"Take  my  opera-glass,"  said  Elsie. 

Ja«k  twk  the  glass,  adjusted  it,  and  looked  at  the 
lYale  boat-house  and  float 

"It  makes  me  sick  to  think  that  I  can't  be  there!" 

"If  you  cuc-cuc-could  have  taken  the  mum-mum- 
mascot's  pup-place!"  stuttered  Gamp  mournfully,  ad- 
dressing Elsie. 

"But  Frank  didn't  think  it  best,  you  know!  He 
hasn't  given  up  the  hope  that  she  will  come  yet." 


Yale  Against  Harvard.  67 

"Tut-tut-too  late  now !"  Gamp  declared. 

Bruce  was  walking  up  and  down  the  aisle. 

"Merry  says  we  mustn't  give  up,  but  everything 
looks  pretty  blue!"  he  grumbled. 

"The  Yale  blue!"  chirped  Danny. 

"Wish  it  were  the  Yale  blue!"  moaned  Dismal. 

"Thought  you  never  worried  about  anything  ?"  Bink 
flung  at  Bruce. 

"I  never  said  so!"  Bruce  flung  back. 

"He  isn't  worrying,  he's  just  wondering!"  Danny 
explained. 

A  boy  came  into  the  car  with  a  jump  and  put  a 
note  into  the  hands  of  Diamond,  whom  he  singled  out 
by  his  bandaged  head.  It  was  from  Merriwell. 

"I  have  been  chosen  to  take  Jack's  place  as  stroke. 
Harvard  isn't  ready — cracked  oar,  I  believe,  and  we 
have  agreed  to  hold  back  the  race  twenty  minutes.  I 
still  have  hopes  of  Inza.  Telegram  rewired  at  New 
Haven  says  she  is  on  the  way.  Bart  and  Harry  are 
also  on  the  way  somewhere.  Keep  your  courage  up. 
The  crew  still  full  of  hope.  We  will  win  this  race  yet. 
Haven't  time  to  write  more.  Tell  Bruce  to  be  ready. 

"MERRY/' 

Jack  read  this  aloud  to  the  throng  that  crowded 
round  him.  A  little  cheer  went  up.  Bruce  made  his 
way  out  of  the  car  and  went  to  a  single-seated  buggy 
which  was  drawn  up  near  with  a  driver  in  the  seat. 

"I  guess  you  fellows  won't  find  any  need  of  this," 


68  Yale  Against  Harvard. 

the  driver  remarked,  with  a  smile,  as  he  flicked  at  a 
fly  that  was  troubling  the  horse. 

"Dunno!"  Bruce  admitted.     "Merry  thinks  so!" 

"I  bub-bet  Yale  was  gug-glad  enough  to  hold  bub- 
back  the  race  tut-twenty  minutes !"  Gamp  mumbled. 

If  Joe  could  have  read  the  heart  of  Frank  Merri- 
well  at  that  moment  he  would  have  known  how  glad 
one  member  of  the  Yale  crew  was  that  the  race  was 
being  delayed.  Merriwell  had  intended  to  make  a 
fight  for  time,  when  the  request  for  a  delay  came  over 
from  the  Harvard  crew.  Some  of  the  Yale  men  be- 
gan to  grumble. 

"But  it's  just  what  we  want!"  Frank  had  assured 
them.  "I  believe  that  Inza  will  get  here.  This  twenty 
minutes  is  all  in  our  favor !" 

The  Yale  men  would  have  scouted  the  idea  that  they 
were  superstitious;  yet  they  would  have  felt  relieved 
if  they  could  have  been  assured  of  the  coming  of  the 
mascot  of  the  crew  in  time.  Merry's  words  encour- 
aged them,  and  the  reply  was  sent  to  Harvard  that 
the  request  for  a  delay  of  twenty  minutes  had  been 
granted. 

"We'll  make  it,  if  she  doesn't  come!"  Merriwell 
declared,  as  the  minutes  dragged  their  slow  length 
along.  "But  I  want  her  to  see  us  win  the  race.  I 
wouldn't  have  her  miss  it  for  anything!" 

There  was  a  noticeable  stir  at  the  Harvard  position 
across  the  river. 


Yale  Against  Harvard  69 

"I  think  they're  getting  ready  to  launch  their  boat !" 
one  of  the  men  observed.  "Time's  about  up.  Glad 
we  haven't  any  broken  oars  to  trouble  us.  That's  a 
worse  hoodoo  than  the  loss  of  the  mascot." 

The  Yale  oars,  the  shell,  everything,  had  been  care- 
fully scanned  and  examined,  and  the  treacherous  work 
of  the  man  who  had  sawn  into  the  oar  of  the  stroke 
and  weakened  it  had  not  been  discovered. 

"Some  excitement  up  there  at  the  train!"  one  of 
the  crew  remarked. 

"Oh,  they've  been  wild  ever  since  they  came!"  was 
the  answer. 

Merriwell  took  a  glass  and  trained  it  on  the  observa- 
tion-car. His  face  changed. 

"Fellows!"  he  exclaimed,  taking  the  glass  from  his 
eyes.  "I  believe  the  mascot  has  come !" 

How  his  voice  thrilled!  But  the  joy  that  thrilled 
him  was  not  greater  than  that  in  the  usually  placid 
breast  of  Bruce  Browning,  as  he  bodily  lifted  Inza  to  a 
seat  in  the  waiting  buggy  and  bounded  in  at  her  side. 

Bart  Hodge  had  won  the  race !  How  the  Yale  crew- 
yelled!  Their  mascot  had  arrived. 

"Right  up  here!"  said  the  captain  of  the  launch, 
as  he  assisted  Inza  aboard. 

"And  you,  too !"  he  said,  grasping  Browning  by  the 
shoulder. 

Bruce  had  not  expected  to  go  on  the  referee's  launch, 
though  he  was  glad  enough  to  do  so.  A  place  had 


?o  Yale  Against  Harvard. 

been  assigned  to  Inza,  and  now  Bruce  was  to  go,  too, 
through  the  favor  of  the  captain. 

There  was  no  time  for  protests,  if  any  one  cared 
to  make  them.  There  were  a  number  of  people  on 
the  launch,  some  wearing  the  crimson  of  Harvard  and 
others  the  blue  of  Yale.  For  the  main  part,  these 
were  officials  representing  the  two  crews. 

The  Yale  crew  yelled  again  and  again  when  Inza 
stepped  to  the  side  of  the  launch  and  fluttered  her 
handkerchief  in  their  direction.  Bruce  was  at  her 
side. 

"Bart  was  almost  exhausted/'  she  said.  "But  the 
noble  fellow  wouldn't  admit  it  nor  let  me  help  him. 
He  came  like  the  wind!  I  don't  believe  a  railroad 
velocipede  was  ever  sent  at  such  speed  before.  On 
some  of  the  curves  I  thought  sure  it  was  going  off 
the  track!  But  Bart  brought  me  through  on  time." 

"None  grittier!"  Bruce  admitted.  "Sorry  Rattles 
couldn't  come!" 

The  Harvard  men  were  in  their  shell  and  moving 
toward  the  starting-line.  The  crimson  was  fluttering 
everywhere,  and  the  Harvard  sympathizers  were  howl- 
ing themselves  hoarse. 

Then  the  Yale  crew  were  seen  carrying  their  shell 
out  on  the  float.  What  a  pleasing  thing  it  was  to  see 
them  in  their  light  racing-suits  of  blue,  as  they  raised 
the  shell  with  a  dexterous  swing  above  their  heads  and 
laid  it  gracefully  upon  the  water.  Inza's  handkerchief 


Yale  Against  Harvard  71 

fluttered  again  as  she  noticed  Merriwell.  What  a 
handsome  fellow  he  was,  truly!  He  seemed  a  demi- 
god of  the  sea. 

The  crew  stepped  gingerly  into  the  cranky  shell, 
oars  were  adjusted,  and  the  boat  moved  away  from 
the  float. 

"Frank  is  a  splendid  stroke!"  Inza  exclaimed. 

"You  bet !"  Bruce  grunted. 

"And  see  how  finely  they  pull  together!  How 
straight  their  backs  are!  And  how  they  come  for- 
ward together,  so  smoothly,  as  if  they  were  only  one 
man!" 

"We've  a  big  show  to  win  this  race!"  Bruce  de- 
clared. 

"We're  sure  to  win  it,  Bruce!  The  mascot  is  here, 
and  Frank  is  the  stroke  I  We  can't  lose  it !" 

"Accidents  sometimes  happen!"  grumbled  Bruce. 
He  did  not  know  of  the  weakened  oar  of  the  stroke, 
and  he  did  not  mean  this  as  a  prophecy. 

Both  boats  were  moving  to  the  starting-point.  The 
referee's  launch  began  to  swing  round  to  get  into  posi- 
tion. The  friends  of  Yale  afloat  and  ashore  were 
trying  to  drown  the  yells  of  the  adherents  of  the 
Cambridge  college.  Flags  were  shooting  up  and  down 
the  halyards  of  some  of  the  yachts.  Some  of  the 
smaller  boats  laden  with  spectators  began  to  move 
nearer  to  the  racing-waters. 

As  the  Yale  and  Harvard  shells  came  up  to  the 


72  Yale  Against  Harvard. 

starting-point,  the  cheers  broke  forth  again.  The 
referee's  launch  was  moving  toward  the  boats  as  they 
backed  up  to  the  line.  The  two  shells,  held  by  their 
sterns,  were  allowed  to  swing  down  the  current.  The 
oars  were  lifted  and  swung  back  together  and  remained 
poised  over  the  stream.  The  crucial  moment  had 
come — the  race  was  ready  to  begin ! 

Inza's  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  Yale  crew  and  espe- 
cially on  Frank  Merriwell. 

"It  isn't  the  mascot!"  she  thought.  "I  am  glad 
to  be  their  mascot — the  mascot  of  such  a  noble  crew. 
But  success  will  come  through  Frank,  not  through  the 
mascot !" 

The  wild  cheering  on  the  river  and  on  shore  partial- 
ly subsided.  Inza  plainly  heard  the  question  of  the 
starter,  and  the  answer: 

"Are  you  ready  ?" 

"Yes!" 

"Go!" 

The  sixteen  shining,  dripping  oars  dipped  as  one 
blade;  sixteen  muscular  fellows  straightened  back  on 
the  sliding  seats ;  and  the  two  shells,  representing  Har- 
vard and  Yale,  leaped  from  the  starting-line,  as  if  en- 
dowed with  life. 

And  were  they  not  endowed  with  life  ?  The  sixteen 
men  who  propelled  them  were  filled  and  thrilled  with 
the  strong,  rich  life  of  youth.  Every  fiber  of  their 
beings  tingled  with  the  exultant  quiver  of  that  strange, 


Yale  Against  Harvard.  73 

indefinable  thing  which  we  call  life,  and  whose  ab- 
sence is  death. 

Side  by  side  the  shells  shot  away,  the  blue  and  crim- 
son lines  of  men  swaying  backward  and  forward  with 
machinelike  motion,  while  the  oars  flashed  and  glinted 
and  dripped  silver. 

The  yells  on  the  vessels  and  on  the  shore  were  re- 
newed. A  hoarse  bellowing  came  from  the  observa- 
tion-trains, which  were  also  beginning  to  move,  three- 
fourths  of  a  mile  distant  from  the  racing  boats.  The 
powerful  steam-launch  of  the  referee  swung  in  behind 
the  shells,  and  away  all  went,  in  wild  excitement. 

For  a  moment  Inza  turned  her  opera-glass  on  the 
train  which  held  her  friends.  She  fancied  she  saw 
Elsie's  face  at  one  of  the  windows  of  the  closed  car, 
and  fluttered  her  handkerchief.  Elsie  had  a  glass 
trained  on  the  launch,  and  the  flutter  of  her  hand- 
kerchief came  as  a  signal  that  she  saw  Inza. 

"They  can  see  everything!"  was  Inza's  joyous 
thought.  "I  wish  they  were  here,  though  I  But  I  wish 
more  than  all  that  Harry  Rattleton  could  see  this  race ! 
The  faithful  fellow  deserves  to  see  it!  But  he  will 
be  as  happy  aS  the  happiest  if  we  win.  And  we  will 
win,  of  course!  With  Frank  as  stroke,  we  are  sure 
to  win!" 

"Our  fellows  are  going  along  in  fine  shape,  but 
the  Harvard  men  are  doing  about  as  well !" 

Bruce  Browning  was  speaking.    The  shells 


74  Vale  Against  Harvard. 

to  be  flying  along  side  by  side.  Neither  had  obtained 
an  advantage  at  the  start,  and  neither  was  now  lead- 
ing. 

"It  will  be  a  close  race!"  said  the  referee. 

"Very  close!"  added  the  captain. 

"Harvard  is  increasing  its  stroke!"  announced  a 
man  who  was  studying  the  dial  of  a  watch.  "They've 
already  gone  up  two  strokes  to  the  minute/' 

"Beginning  to  spurt!"  said  another. 

"By  George!  gaining,  too!"  cried  a  Harvard  sym- 
pathizer, as  was  shown  by  the  ribbons  on  his  coat. 
"Mighty  hard  to  beat  Harvard!" 

"Mighty  hard  to  beat  Yale!"  said  Bruce. 

"With  Frank  a  member  of  the  crew!"  was  Inza's 
thought. 

She  heard  the  comments,  though  her  eyes  were 
fixed  on  the  Yale  crew.  She  had  passed  the  glass  to 
Browning.  The  launch  was  plunging  on  so  rapidly 
that  it  was  keeping  well  up  with  the  racing  boats, 
though  not  near  enough  to  interfere  in  any  way.  NOAV 
and  then  Inza  was  sure  that  she  saw  Merriwell  glance 
up  toward  her.  His  position  as  stroke  brought  him 
nearer  the  launch  than  any  other  man  in  the  Yale  boat 
except  the  coxswain. 

Whenever  any  of  the  crew  seemed  to  look  toward 
her  or  toward  the  launch,  Inza  waved  her  handker- 
chief encouragingly,  proud  and  happy  in  the  fact  that 


Yale  Against  Harvard.  75 

she  was  there  to  help  them  as  much  as  she  could  by  her 
presence. 

"Yale's  stroke  moves  as  steady  as  a  clock !"  the  man 
was  saying  who  held  the  watch.  "He  hasn't  varied 
the  fraction  of  a  second !" 

"Merriwell!"  said  another.  "Their  regular  stroke 
got  knocked  out  in  a  fight  with  a  tramp !  Said  to  be 
about  the  best  oarsman  in  Yale." 

"You  bet!"  answered  Bruce,  with  swelling  enthusi- 
asm. "Merriwell  is  a  whole  boat  crew  himself !" 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE     BROKEN     OAR. 

The  wind  commenced  to  breeze  up,  and  the  water, 
which  had  been  as  smooth  as  a  mill  pond,  began  to 
roughen.  Yet  the  racing-shells  moved  on  as  steadily  as 
before,  slicing  through  the  waves  like  chopping  knives. 

"Yale  is  increasing  the  stroke!"  said  the  man  with 
the  watch.  Harvard  had  gained  a  trifle,  but  Yale  was 
recovering  this. 

How  beautiful  it  all  was!  The  flash  of  the  oars 
just  before  the  catch,  the  clean  finish,  the  sway  of  the 
bodies!  It  was  the  poetry  of  motion.  And  how 
bright,  too!  for  the  vessels  were  gaudy  with  flags  and 
streamers,  the  observation-trains'  dense  masses  of  crim- 
son and  blue — everything  a  flutter  of  color!  All 
rimmed  in  by  the  green  of  the  shore;  while  beneath 
and  behind  and  before,  the  Thames  rippled  and  plashed 
and  threw  up  fringes  of  foamy  lace  along  the  crest  of 
the  waves. 

But  it  was  not  quiet;  for  men  bellowed  themselves 
hoarse,  and  whistles  screeched,  and  students  yelled  and 
sang. 

"Yale's  stroke  has  pulled  up  to  thirty-four!"  said 
the  man  with  the  watch.  Yale  had  recovered  the  dis- 
tance lost.  The  mile  flag  had  been  past.  A  fourth 


The  Broken  Oar.  77 

of  the  race  was  done,  and  the  boats  were  still  almost 
side  by  side. 

"Yale  is  in  the  lead!"  said  Bruce.  "Hurrah  for 
Merriwell!" 

The  men  in  blue  continued  to  gain,  until  they  were 
a  boat's  length  ahead.  Then  Harvard  began  again 
to  spurt.  The  lead  of  the  Yale  boat  was  decreased 
to  half  a  length.  Those  on  the  referee's  launch  could 
plainly  hear  the  Yale  and  Harvard  coxswains  encour- 
aging their  men.  The  two-mile  flag  was  passed,  with 
Yale  still  in  the  lead.  Yale's  stroke  had  dropped  back 
to  thirty-one,  but  the  shell  was  maintaining  the  lead. 

The  three-mile  flag  was  passed.  Harvard  was 
hanging  to  Yale  with  grim  determination.  Harvard 
was  spurting  again,  too.  The  half-length  lead  seemed 
about  to  be  lost.  Some  of  the  oarsmen  were  seen  to 
be  painfully  laboring.  The  pace  had  been  terrific,  and 
the  crews  so  evenly  matched  that  the  outcome  was  in 
great  doubt. 

"Yale  increasing  stroke  again!"  announced  the 
watch  holder. 

The  stroke  went  up  to  thirty-four.  Inza  could  see 
that  Merriwell  -was  dipping  deep  and  strong,  though 
with  rhythmic  regularity.  She  fluttered  her  handker- 
chief encouragingly. 

"Pulling  ahead!"  gasped  Bruce,  who  had  seemed  to 
be  holding  his  breath  for  almost  a  minute.  "Got  'em, 
I  believe !  Yale's  going  ahead !" 


78  The  Broken  Oar. 

A  great  bellowing  like  distant  thunder  rolled  across 
from  the  observation-trains. 

"Pull!"  Yale's  coxswain  was  heard  urging.  "Pull. 
Break  your  backs !  Pull !  All  together !  Now !  now !" 

"Gaining!"  Bruce  cried,  becoming  fairly  shaky  in 
his  unwonted  excitement.  Yale  was  a  boat's  length 
ahead,  and  still  gaining.  Soon  she  was  two  boat 
lengths  ahead! 

"We  win !"  said  Bruce.    "We  win!" 

"Hello !"  cried  the  referee.  "Something  is  the  mat- 
ter!" 

Truly,  something  was  the  matter.  Merriwell's  oar 
had  snapped  short  off,  and  the  blade  was  trailing  in 
the  water,  impeding  the  progress  of  the  Yale  boat. 
The  water  spurted  over  the  motionless  oar. 

"Beat!"  groaned  a  Yale  man. 

"With  victory  in  sight — with  victory  won!" 

"We  are  not  beaten!"  Inza  excitedly  exclaimed. 

Merriwell  was  reaching  out  and  unlocking  his  row- 
lock to  set  the  oar  free,  that  it  might  no  longer  im- 
pede the  progress  of  the  shell. 

The  seven  oars  in  the  Yale  shell  were  still  rising  and 
falling,  and  the  little  coxswain's  voice  rose  in  encour- 
agement. But  Yale's  chances  seemed  to  be  gone.  The 
Harvard  boat  was  decreasing  the  distance  rapidly.  Its 
bow  oar  passed  the  stern  of  the  Yale  boat.  Foot  by 
foot  it  pulled  up,  though  Yale's  crippled  crew  were 
making  a  dauntless  effort 


The  Broken  Oar.  79 

Merriwell  succeeded  in  freeing  the  dragging  oar  and 
threw  the  two  pieces  into  the  river.  He  saw  the  cut 
and  knew  that  treachery  had  been  at  work,  but  he 
could  not  hold  on  to  the  oar  even  to  use  it  as  evi- 
dence. 

Suddenly  he  rose  upright  in  his  place. 

"He's  going  to  leap  overboard!"  Inza  fairly 
shrieked. 

"That's  all  right!    That's  the  stuff!"  cried  Bruce. 

Merriwell  was  indeed  preparing  to  spring  from  thft 
shell.  He  saw  that  the  seven  oarsmen  might  still 
have  a  chance  to  defeat  Harvard  if  the  Yale  shell  were 
freed  of  the  superfluous  and  useless  weight  of  his 
body. 

"Yes,  he's  going  over !"  a  Yale  man  exclaimed.  "I 
suppose  he  can  swim  all  right?" 

Bruce  had  moved  with  an  agility  that  was  simply 
wonderful,  and  was  going  over  the  side  of  the  launch, 
suspended  by  a  rope  snubbed  round  a  cleat  and  held 
for  him  by  a  Yale  sympathizer.  He  saw  that  he  could 
probably  help  Merriwell,  after  Frank  plunged  into  the 
river. 

Then  Merriwell  went  over  the  side  of  the  shell, 
clearing  it  well,  and  coming  to  the  surface  almost  in- 
stantly, shouted: 

"You  can  win  yet!    Pull,  fellows!    Pull!" 

The  launch  was  almost  upon  him.  But,  as  the  light- 
ened Yale  V>at  leaped  on,  Browning,  swinging  down 


8o  The  Broken  Oar. 

from  the  launch,  reached  out  a  hand  to  his  friend  and 
drew  him  half  out  of  the  water,  and  out  of  danger. 

The  Yale  boat  was  holding  its  own  "against  the 
Crimson,  and  again  men  were  howling  like  lunatics. 
The  finishing-line  was  just  ahead.  The  line  was 
crossed,  with  Yale  a  half-length  in  advance. 

Then  the  cannons  boomed  and  the  blue  fluttered  vic- 
toriously. 


Over  on  the  observation-train  the  members  of  Mer- 
liwell's  flock  and  their  friends  were  wildly  cheering. 
Gamp  was  stuttering  his  joy,  and  Danny  and  Bink 
seemed  to  want  to  stand  on  their  heads  in  the  aisle  of 
the  swaying  car.  The  train  slowed  down  almost  to  a 
stop,  immediately  after  the  signal  flags  had  announced 
the  victory  of  Yale. 

"I'll  dream  of  this  for  a  week !"  shouted  Danny. 

"And  I'll  seam  of  it  all  drummer — I  mean  I'll  dream 
of  it  all  summer!" 

Harry  Rattleton  had  climbed  up  the  steps  and 
bounded  into  the  car. 

"Just  got  here  on  another  train,  fellows!"  he  ex- 
claimed, while  his  honest  face  shone  with  delight. 
"But  I  saw  the  end  of  the  race !  It  was  great !  Hoo- 
ray for  Yale!" 

The  train  came  to  a  stop,  and  Bart  Hodge  walked 
to  the  door.  On  the  platform  he  encountered  Paul 


The  Broken  Oar.  81 

Rains,  whose  coat  was  fairly  covered  with  crimson 
flags  and  ribbons. 

"I've  heard  about  that  conspiracy!"  Rains  said,  as 
soon  as  he  saw  Bart.  "And  one  of  your  friends  had 
the  gall  to  tell  me  that  I  was  in  it.  But  I  wasn't!  I 
knew  nothing  at  all  about  it.  I  put  my  money  on 
Harvard  simply  because  I  didn't  believe  that  Yale 
could  beat  her.  But  I  did  not  do  any  dirt." 

"Is  that  straight?"  Bart  asked. 

"You  needn't  believe  it,  if  you  don't  want  to !  But 
I'd  like  Merriwell  to  know  that  I  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it!" 

Bart  saw  that  Rains  was  speaking  the  truth. 

"But  Lake  did!" 

"Perhaps!" 

"And  Lake  has  again  been  beaten  by  Merriwell  !*' 


CHAPTER  VIH. 

IN   THE  ADIRONDACKS. 

The  boat-race  had  constituted  a  magnificent  climax 
to  the  term's  successful  record  in  sport,  and  the  college 
men  had  gone  to  their  various  homes  in  the  highest  of 
spirits.  Some  had  gone  West;  some  South — some  to 
the  Adirondacks.  Let  us  take  a  peep  at  some  of  these 
sturdy  Yale  supporters,  enjoying  their  well-deserved 
rest ;  a  number  of  Frank  Merriwell's  party  being  there, 
bent  on  pleasure. 

"Carry  this  up  for  you  ?" 

"You  cuc-cuc-can't  lift  it !" 

The  scene  was  the  platform  of  the  station  of  Wa- 
beek,  in  the  Adirondacks,  and  the  first  speaker  was  a 
young  fellow  who  did  a  little  of  everything,  from  log- 
ging in  the  winter  to  acting  as  guide  to  tourist  parties 
in  the  summer.  The  other  speaker  was  Joe  Gamp. 
Gathered  about  Gamp  were  members  of  Frank  Mer- 
riwell's party.  The  train  which  had  brought  them  had 
just  steamed  away,  and  Merriwell  and  Hodge  were 
inside  the  station  talking  to  the  ticket-seller. 

The  carriages  and  trunk  teams  from  the  Wabeek 
Hotel,  which  was  distant  from  the  place  a  mile  or  so 
back  in  the  mountains,  had  not  arrived;  and  Ben  Ro- 
mine,  the  young  man  mentioned,  feeling  very  strong 


In  the  Adirondacks.  83 

from  the  effects  of  a  few  drinks  which  he  had  taken, 
had  offered  to  carry  the  heaviest  trunk  to  the  hotel. 
Romine  was  thick-set  and  muscular,  with  gnarled  and 
knotty  hands  and  a  neck  like  a  tree. 

"There  are  gold  bricks  in  that,  young  man!"  Jack 
Ready  airily  declared.  "It  would  take  an  elephant  to 
lift  it!" 

"I'm  elefunt  enough  to  lift  it  and  carry  it  to  the 
Wabeek.  If  there  are  any  gold  bricks  in  it  an'  you'll 
gimme  the  chance,  I'll  carry  it  out  o'  the  county !" 

"I  dud-dud-don't  believe  you  cue-can  lift  one  end 
of  it,  young  feller!"  Gamp  solemnly  declared. 

"Certainly  he  can !"  Bink  Stubbs  asserted.  "I  could 
lift  that  thing  myself,  if  I'd  a  little  strengthening 
plaster  inwardly  applied." 

"Sure!"  chirped  Danny  Griswold.  "I  wouldn't 
make  any  job  at  all  of  lifting  that,  if  I  were  strong 
enough !" 

"Hoist  it  up  and  I'll  make  a  picture  of  you !"  urged 
Greg  Carker,  taking  up  his  camera.  "We'll  call  the 
picture,  'The  Elephant  of  the  Adirondacks  and  his 
Little  Trunk!'" 

"Anything  in  it?"  asked  Romine,  with  a  grin. 

"Gold  bricks,  I  told  you!"  said  Ready. 

"There's  where  Carker  carries  his  wealth,"  chirped 
Bink. 

'"Anything  in  it  for  me?    That's  what  I  mean." 

"Is  there  anything  in  it  for  him.  Greg?"  Ready 


84  In  the  Adirondacks. 

blandly  asked.  "I  really  don't  know  just  what  is  in  it, 
aside  from  the  gold  bricks!" 

Having  discovered  that  the  trunk  was  Carker's,, 
Romine  turned  to  him. 

"Anything  in  it  for  me?"  he  asked  of  Carker. 

Greg  looked  bored. 

"What  is  it  worth,  young  feller,  if  I  h'ist  that  thing 
to  my  shoulders?  Enough  to  make  it  interestin',  you 
know!  No  use  liftin'  for  you.  I  feel's  if  I  could 
throw  the  danged  thing  over  the  station.  Feel  strong's 
a  moose  this  mornin'!  Fine  air  we've  got  up  here — 
finest  manufactured!  You  fellers'll  have  muscles  like 
hosses  in  a  month,  'f  you  stay  up  here.  What's  it 
worth,  governor,  if  I  h'ist  it?" 

"I  don't  care  whether  you  hoist  it  or  not?  What 
good  will  that  do  me?" 

Though  Greg  Carker  was  the  prospective  heir  of 
millions,  he  never  threw  away  any  money  foolishly,  ex- 
cept on  himself.  Now  and  then,  for  his  own  gratifi- 
cation, he  could  "burn  money"  as  recklessly  as  any 
man  who  ever  struck  Yale.  But  these  periods  were 
remarkable  for  being  few  and  far  between,  as  well 
as  for  the  recklessness  with  which  Greg  then  flung 
around  his  cash.  Greg  was  said  by  his  friends  to  be 
"near" ;  but  he  insisted,  in  the  lectures  which  he  some- 
times distributed  with  a  more  lavish  hand  than  he  did 
his  wealth,  that  economy  was  the  road  to  riches  and 
only  fools  walked  in  any  other  highway.  Hence  he 


In  the  Adirondacks.  85 

did  not  intend  to  give  anything  to  Romine  for  doing 
so  foolish  and  unnecessary  a  thing  as  lifting  the  heavy 
trunk.  Greg  Carker  was  a  socialist,  but  a  socialist 
who  took  care  that  if  there  was  any  distribution  of 
wealth  to  the  toiling  masses  it  was  the  wealth  of  some 
one  else  which  was  distributed. 

Romine  was  chewing  gum ;  so  that,  whether  talking 
or  not,  his  jaws  were  industriously  working. 

"Thought  maybe  you'd  like  to  see  me  do  the  strong- 
man act.  Oh,  I'm  feelin'  soople  this  mornin' !  Some- 
thing in  the  atmosphere  I  s'pose.  Greatest  air  up  here 
you  ever  see." 

"Air  is  invisible,"  corrected  Carker,  glad  to  get 
Romine  on  another  string. 

"You  bet  it  ain't  invisible  up  here  on  a  frost) 
mornin'  in  the  winter.  Can  see  a  man's  breath  then. 
a  mile  away." 

"And  some  other  times  I  presume  that  a  man's 
breath  might  be  smelt  a  mile  away?"  queried  Ready, 
who  did  not  fancy  Romine's  appearance. 

"Sure !"  Bink  warbled.  "Strong  enough  sometimes 
to  lift  that  trunk  by  itself!" 

"Nobody's  making  any  insinurwations  ?"  asked  Ro- 
mine, glaring  around.  "That  mightn't  be  healthy, 
even  if  this  is  a  healthy  country !" 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Danny.  "Mr.  Romine  has 
simply  been  talking  about  the  strength  of  a  man,  not 
the  strength  of  his  breath." 


86  In  the  Adirondacks. 

Romine  seemed  hardly  to  know  whether  to  take  this 
as  an  offense  or  as  another  fling  at  his  slightly  intoxi- 
cated condition.  He  concluded  to  accept  it  as  friendly, 
after  looking  the  little  joker  over. 

"Shake!"  he  said,  giving  Danny's  hand  an  awful 
squeeze.  "There  ain't  nothin'  out  of  the  way  about 
you  but  your  hair,  and  hanged  if  I  ain't  seen  some 
that's  redder!" 

Greg  Carker  was  breathing  more  freely.  The  sub- 
ject seemed  to  have  been  successfully  changed.  But 
suddenly  Romine  came  back  to  it. 

"Any  gent  got  something  that  asks  me  to  do  liftin* 
or  any  old  thing?  I'm  feelin'  good  this  mornin',  and 
I'm  out  fer  dust!" 

"You'll  git  a-plenty  of  it  as  soon  as  the  wind  kick*" 
up !"  remarked  a  bystander. 

"Gold-dust,  I  mean!" 

"There's  a  man  who  can  outlift  you,  or  throw  you 
down,  or  beat  you  at  any  old  thing!"  Bink  declared, 
pointing  to  Joe  Gamp. 

"Nun-nothin'  of  the  kind!"  Joe  declared.  "I  cuc- 
cuc-can't  lift  nothin' !" 

"That  cornstalk?"  sniffed  Romine,  sizing  up  Gamp. 
"I  can  throw  him  down  and  not  half  try.  Why,  I  can 
put  that  thing  onto  his  back  with  my  hands  tied !" 

A  queer  gleam  came  into  Joe's  eyes. 

"Why,  he  is  one  of  the  champion  wrestlers  of  Yale  I'* 
Danny  insisted. 


In  the  Adirondacks.  87 

"And  he  lifted  a  heavy  mortgage  on  a  New  Hamp*y 
shire  farm  last  year !"  Ready  chipped  in.  "They  said- 
it  was  a  heavier  thing  to  move  than  the  ledges." 

"That  thing?"  sniffed  Romine.  "You  don't  mean 
to  say  that  thing  has  ever  been  to  Yale?  I've  seen 
Yale  myself!" 

"Graduate?"  demanded  Harry  Rattleton. 

"Graddiated  in  the  physical  branches.  Walked  into 
the  gymnasium  and  walked  out  again.  I  left  New 
Haven  last  year." 

"I  knew  you  did!"  said  Ready.  Romine  looked 
at  him  keenly  and  suspiciously. 

"How  did  you  know  anything  about  it?" 

"Why  I  knew  you  left  it.  It's  there  yet !  You  didn't 
take  it  away  with  you!" 

Romine  seemed  immensely  relieved.  He  grinned, 
then  forced  a  laugh. 

"Ho !  ho !  ho !  That's  a  good  un.  Didn't  know  I'd 
struck  into  a  ringful  of  funny  clowns,  but  I  see  I 
have!" 

"Tell  you  wh-what!"  said  Gamp,  who  seemed  to 
have  been  closely  studying  the  thick-necked,  muscular 
woodsman.  "I  cuc-cuc-cuc-can  pup-pup-put  you  on 
your  bub-back  and  not  half  try." 

Romine  stared  at  Gamp  as  if  he  could  not  believe 
his  ears. 

"Gamp  didn't  just  walk  into  the  gymnasium  and 
walk  out  again !"  Bink  declared.  "He  took  a  thorough 


88  In  the  Adirondacks. 

course,  and  then  had  a  lot  of  extra  lessons  from  Bus- 
ter Kelley,  the  pugilist." 

Romine's  eyes  opened  wider. 

"I  know  Buster  Kelley,"  he  admitted.    "Great  man." 

"Cuc-cuc-can  put  you  on  your  bub-bub-bub " 

"On  your  little  spinal  column,  he  means!"  said 
Bink.  "He's  often  taken  that  way  just  before  he  gets 
dangerous.  It's  a  bad  sign  when  he  stutters." 

Romine's  champing  jaws  worked  even  faster. 

"On  your  bub-bub-back !"  said  Joe,  coming  again. 

"Nothin'  of  the  kind!"  asserted  Romine,  throwing 
his  hat  on  the  ground.  "I'll  throw  you  quicker'n  a 
wink." 

"When  the  gladiator  of  the  Adirondacks  meets  the 
wrestler  of  Yale " 

"You'll  think  they  arena  row!"  punned  Ready,  in- 
terrupting Bink. 

Danny  seemed  about  to  fall  in  a  fit. 

"Are  in  a  row!"  he  gasped.  "Somebody  fan  me! 
To  be  hit  by  a  pun  like  that!" 

"It's  worse  than  being  in  a  row!"  squealed  Bink. 
"Danny,  my  friend  Ready  is  intruding  on  our  ex- 
clusive territory.  We'll  sue  him  for  breach  of  copy- 
right!" 

Romine  looked  round,  not  understanding  this  chaff, 
while  his  jaws  worked  furiously.  He  half-fancied 
jokes  were  being  cast  at  him. 


In  the  Adirondacks.  89 

"I'll  throw  you  quicker'n  a  wink!"  he  repeated, 
again  facing  Joe  Gamp.  "Shed  yer  togs !" 

"Yes,  throw  off  your  linen!" 

"Shed  your  stripes,  as  the  snake  said  to  the  con- 
vict!" 

"I  would  shed " 

"Oh,  don't  tell  us  about  the  wood-shed !" 

A  half-dozen  seemed  talking  at  once.  Joe  calmly 
put  his  hat  on  a  truck  and  deliberately  peeled  off  his 
coat. 

"I'm  gug-gug-going  to  throw  you!"  he  declared. 
"I've  heard  as  mum-mum-much  of  this  as  I  cuc-cuc- 
cuc-can  stand!" 

Ben  Romine  quickly  threw  off  his  coat  and  piled  it 
on  top  of  Joe  Gamp's.  Then  he  stood  with  hands 
down  and  fists  clenched,  while  his  jaws  worked  like 
a  steam  chopping-block.  Merriwell's  party,  with  the 
loungers  about  the  station,  gathered  in  a  little  ring 
about  Gamp  and  Romine. 

"I'm  coming  fer  ye!"  Romine  howled,  while  the 
veins  in  his  bull  neck  seemed  to  swell. 

"Cuc-cuc-cuc-come  on!"  Joe  invited. 

The  stuttering  appeared  to  result  from  a  nervous 
chattering  of  the  teeth,  and  the  gawky  New  Hamp- 
shire boy  seemed  really  about  to  bolt  from  the  spot. 
But  Gamp  had  no  such  intentions. 

Romine  bent  his  knees  and  squatted,  then  sprang 
up  with  a  wonderful  bound  and  launched  himself  at 


90  In  the  Adirondacks. 

Joe.  It  was  like  the  uncoiling  of  some  thick-bodied 
serpent  when  it  strikes;  but  Gamp  was  ready  for  the 
woodsman.  His  long  arms  appeared  to  welcome  Ro- 
mine  to  their  embrace,  then  closed  in  a  bearlike  hug. 
The  next  moment  the  two  youths  were  struggling  and 
swaying  back  and  forth,  each  straining  every  nerve  to 
throw  the  other. 

It  was  plain  that  for  all  the  disparity  in  their  looks, 
Gamp  and  Romine  were  very  evenly  matched.  Gamp 
was  possessed  of  immense  strength,  even  though  his 
appearance  might  not  suggest  it.  His  long  arms  were 
muscular,  and  his  legs  were  as  strong  as  mountain 
saplings.  Romine  was  short,  with  a  bulldog  courage 
and  with  bunchy  muscles  that  stood  out  in  knots  and 
ridges  all  over  his  body. 

No  one  was  more  surprised  than  Romine.  He  had 
made  the  mistake  made  by  many  men  in  thinking  that 
his  particular  build  of  body  gives  more  strength  than 
any  other.  And  Gamp  was  not  finding  his  task  easy. 
Romine  tried  to  get  under  Gamp  and  lift  him  bodily 
from  the  floor,  while  Joe  sought  to  draw  Romine  up  in 
that  bearlike  hug  and  hurl  him  off  the  platform. 

So  they  strained  and  swayed  and  struggled  to  and 
fro  over  the  boards.  Twice  Romine  seemed  about  to 
lift  Gamp  from  the  platform,  but  Joe's  feet  did  not 
rise.  Gamp  had  profited  by  the  lessons  given  in  the 
Yale  gymnasium  and  was  not  an  opponent  to  be  de- 
spised, 


In  the  Adirondacks.  91 

"I  got  ye  now !"  Romine  panted,  as  he  doubled  his 
back  and  caught  Gamp  round  the  hips.  It  appeared 
to  be  the  movement  for  which  Gamp  was  waiting. 
He  also  stooped  forward.  Then  he  straightened  up, 
lifting  Romine  clear  of  the  boards.  Up,  up,  Romine 
went,  his  feet  flailing  the  air.  A  cry  of  surprise  came 
from  some  of  the  spectators.  Then,  with  marvelous 
quickness,  Romine  shot  over  Gamp's  head  and  came 
down  sprawling  in  the  dust  of  the  road  by  the  plat- 
form. Fortunately  his  fall  was  partly  broken  by  the 
dusty  bed  and  by  a  heap  of  weather-worn  tanbark 
which  was  moldering  to  decay  beside  the  station. 

The  jolting  fall  and  the  surprise  of  his  defeat  al- 
most sobered  Romine,  but  it  angered  him,  and  this 
was  not  decreased  by  the  guying  laugh  that  was  sent 
up  by  some  of  the  bystanders. 

At  that  instant  Frank  Merriwell  and  Bart  Hodge 
came  out  of  the  station,  drawn  by  the  noise  of  the 
struggle  and  the  excited  cries.  Romine  half-rose  in 
the  dust,  while  a  wicked  glare  came  into  his  eyes. 
Gamp  was  standing  looking  down  at  him,  as  if  won- 
dering himself  how  the  thing  had  been  done. 

Suddenly  Romine  took  from  his  mouth  the  mass  of 
gum  he  had  been  chewing  and  flung  it  at  Gamp's 
head. 

"Take  that  I"  he  snarled. 

Spat! 


92  In  the  Adirondacks. 

Gamp  dodged,  and  the  flying  gum  struck  Franlc 
Merriwell  just  over  the  eye. 

Romine  leaped  up  with  a  look  of  fear. 

"Beg  pardon!  All  a  mistake!"  he  said,  while  his 
face  whitened  under  the  tan. 

Merriwell  removed  the  mass  of  gum. 

"Better  be  a  bit  careful!"  he  said  grimly,  for  his 
eye  pained  him  and  he  was  not  at  all  pleased  to  have 
anything  of  that  kind  hurled  into  his  face.  "I 
don't " 

Romine  was  moving  toward  his  coat  and  hat. 

"Just  recklected  that  I  promised  to  meet  a  man  at 
the  hotel!  Ought  to  have  been  there  half  an  hour 
ago." 

He  slouchily  picked  up  the  articles.  He  was  breath- 
ing heavily,  and  his  face  seemed  now  of  a  sickly  yel- 
low. 

"See  you  some  other  time!"  he  flung  at  Gamp. 

"Got  to  go,  or  I'd  like  to  have't  out  with  ye  now !" 

Then  he  pulled  his  hat  into  his  eyes,  slung  his  coat 
over  an  arm,  and  turned  quickly  into  the  road  lead- 
ing toward  the  Wabeek  Hotel. 

"Must  have  been  afraid  you'd  take  some  of  that  tan- 
bark  and  tan  his  hide  for  him!"  gasped  Danny. 

"It  fairly  paralyzed  him  when  he  saw  that  he  had 
hit  you  instead  of  Gamp!"  asserted  Rattleton  to 
Frank.  "Never  saw  chuch  a  sange — such  a  change 
ia  anx  onel" 


In  the  Adirondacks.  93 

"It  scared  him,  I  tell  you,  as  the  little  fellow  said 
of  the  can  he  tied  to  the  dog's  tail !  It  made  him  go 
sailing!"  observed  Bink. 

"Felt  that  he  was  up  against  the  real  thing!"  re- 
marked Carker. 

"Oh,  he  knew  that,  when  he  tut-tut-tut-tackled  me)1* 
stuttered  Gamp,  beaming  all  over,  as  he  put  on  his 
coat  and  hat. 

"There  was  some  other  reason,"  said  Frank,  as  hft 
thoughtfully  watched  Romine  disappearing  down  thf 
road.  "It  wasn't  because  he  threw  that  gum  into 
my  eye,  nor  because  he  was  afraid  of  me  on  that  ac- 
count. Nothing  of  the  kind,  I  feel  sure.  He  didn'l 
know  I  was  here  until  I  came  out  of  the  station.  I've 
seen  that  fellow  before,  and  he  has  seen  me,  and  foe 
some  reason  he  fears  me.  I  believe  that  I  have  seen 
him  in  New  Haven." 

"He  said  he  had  been  to  New  Haven!"  informed 
Danny. 

"That's  it,  then.  He  has  some  reason  for  being 
afraid  of  me.  I  wonder  what  it  can  be?" 

"Here  comes  the  stage,"  Rattleton  announced,  point- 
ing to  a  dust  cloud.  "Now  we'll  get  down  to  that  old 
hotel." 

All  were  glad  to  know  that  the  stage  which  was  to 
take  them  was  coming.  It  drew  up  in  a  few  minutes, 
with  a  flourish  of  the  driver's  whip — a  regular  moun- 
tain stage-coach,  with  seats  outside  and  in. 


94  In  the  Adirondacks. 

"Wish  I  had  taken  a  picture  of  Gamp  and  that  fel- 
low just  as  Gamp  .threw  him!"  said  Carker,  as  he 
climbed  to  one  of  the  outside  seats,  swinging  his 
camera. 

"Why  didn't  you  try  for  it  ?"  Merriwell  asked. 

"For  the  same  reason  that  I  didn't,"  said  Ready, 
who  also  had  a  camera.  "The  match  was  so  interest- 
ing that  no  one  could  think  of  a  camera  in  the  same 
breath.  That's  the  trouble  with  taking  snap-shots.  At 
the  moment  of  interest  your  interest  is  so  great  that 
you  let  your  interest  in  that  make  you  forget  your  in- 
terest in " 

The  stage  started  with  a  lurch,  and  Ready  was  al- 
most piled  on  his  head.  He  came  down  heavily  across 
Bink's  knees. 

"I  object  to  having  interest  heaped  on  me  in  that 
way,  as  the  debtor  said  to  the  note-holder!"  squeaked 
Bink,  throwing  him  back.  "Sit  on  your  own  knees! 
It  will  be  more  interest-ing — for  me!" 

"One  of  us  ought  to  have  waited  and  got  a  shot 
at  this  stage,  with  its  load  of  dome-browed  and  intel- 
lectual passengers!"  said  Carker,  though  the  bored 
look  he  nearly  always  wore  did  not  leave  his  face.  But 
the  driver  cracked  his  whip,  the  stage  gave  another 
lurch,  and  all  were  away  for  the  Wabeek  Hotel,  leav- 
ing the  trunks  and  other  luggage  to  be  brought  up 
later. 

Merriwell  looked  for   Ben   Romine  as  the  stage 


In  the  Adirondacks.  95 

swung  and  swayed  along  the  woodland  road,  but  Ro- 
mine  had  strangely  disappeared.  If  he  had  kept  to  the 
road,  the  stage  must  have  passed  him;  but  it  did  not 
pass  him,  unless  he  was  hiding  in  the  timber  near-by. 
"For  some  reason  the  fellow  is  afraid  of  me!"  was 
Frank's  thought.  "I  wonder  what  it  can  be?" 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SOME  GUESTS  OF  THE  WABEEK. 

The  Wabeek  was  a  handsome  house,  charmingly 
situated,  and  enjoying  a  liberal  patronage  in  the  sum- 
mer season.  Back  of  it  rose  4he  picturesque  Trinity 
Peaks,  sometimes  called  the  Three  Sisters.  In  front 
was  Wabeek  Lake,  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  and  one 
of  the  chief  attractions  of  the  place.  Bart  Hodge 
caught  at  Merriwell's  sleeve  as  the  stage  drew  up  in 
front  of  the  hoteL 

"Look  here!"  Bart  whispered,  m  a  surprised  voice, 
"do  you  see  who  that  is?" 

Merriwell  looked.  In  one  of  the  comfortable  chairs 
that  were  plentifully  distributed  about  the  wide  piazzas 
was  a  young  man  whom  both  Frank  and  Hodge  had 
good  cause  to  remember. 

"Herbert  Hammerswell !"  Bart  exclaimed.  "If  I'd 
thought  he'd  be  here,  I'd  voted  to  go  some  place  else. 
He's  a  dirty  sneak,  and  he  always  makes  trouble 
when  he's  around !" 

Young  Hammerswell,  who  was  a  dudish-looking 
youth,  with  hair  parted  in  the  middle  and  carrying  a 
cane,  suddenly  became  aware  of  the  fact  that  he  had 
become  an  object  of  interest  to  the  passengers  in  the 
stage.  His  face  changed  its  appearance  quite  as  much 


Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek.          97 

as  Ben  Romine's  had  done  when  Ben  saw  whose  eye 
the  gum  had  struck.  He  rose  hastily  from  the  chair 
and  turned  toward  the  nearest  doorway,  through  which 
he  vanished.  When  he  was  beyond  the  sight  of  the 
people  in  the  stage  he  stopped,  and  suddenly  became 
aware  that  he  was  trembling. 

"Merriwell's  crowd!"  he  grumbled. 

Then  his  manner  changed. 

"Well,  Mr.  Frank  Merriwdl  and  his  friends  will 
be  sorry  before  they  get  away  from  the  Wabeek  that 
they've  again  run  foul  of  Herbert  Hammerswdl.  I'd 
like  to  get  even  with  that  fellow,  and  I  never  was  in 
such  a  position  to  do  it.  I've  got  the  wherewith  now 
to  make  a  fight  whenever  it's  necessary.  Of  course, 
they  recognized  me,  and  no  doubt  they'll  think  it  funny 
that  I  should  get  out  that  way.  They'll  think  I'm 
afraid  of  them!  Well,  that's  all  right,  too!  They'll 
know  better  by  and  by.  I'll  watch  for  some  chance 
or  other  to  do  Merriwell  up,  and  if  a  chance  doesn't 
come,  I'll  make  one !" 

With  this  mental  declaration,  Hammerswell  moved 
away  and  went  to  another  part  of  the  house.  He 
wanted  to  have  time  to  think,  and  desired  to  keep 
away  from  Merriwell's  friends  until  he  mentally  pulled 
himself  together  and  determined  on  some  line  of  ac- 
tion or  on  some  method  of  possible  revenge. 

"Yes,  that  was  Hammerswell!"  grunted  Bart,  as 
he  swung  down  from  the  coach.  "If  he  comes  fool- 


98          Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek. 

ing  around  me,  he'll  get  hurt,  too.  I  haven't  any  use 
for  that  fellow." 

"Probably  he'll  clear  out  like  Romine  did-!"  said 
Danny.  "He  scooted  as  soon  as  he  saw  Frank.  What 
sort  of  an  influence  is  it  you  are  wielding  this  season, 
Merry,  that  makes  people  speed  away  on  the  wings 
of  the  wind  as  soon  as  they  see  you  ?  Never  heard  of 
any  such  hypnotism  as  that!" 

"Romine  did  seem  to  want  to  get  away  from  me," 
Frank  admitted.  "I've  been  asking  myself  what  his 
reason  was,  but  I  don't  know." 

Merriwell's  party  were  not  long  in  discovering  that 
the  Wabeek  Hotel  held  other  persons  whom  they  as 
little  expected  to  see  there  as  Herbert  Hammerswell. 
One  of  these  was  Dunstan  Kirk,  who  had  been  the 
captain  of  the  Yale  nine,  and  had  taken  part  in  the 
great  game  of  ball  which  Yale  played  against  Prince- 
ton not  long  before. 

Merriwell  saw  Kirk  crossing  the  piazza  and  made 
his  presence  known. 

"Why,  hello,  Kirk!"  he  exclaimed,  in  his  kindly 
fashion,  getting  up  and  extending  his  hand.  "Glad  to 
see  you,  though  I  had  no  idea  you  were  here !  How 
does  it  happen?" 

Kirk  was  equally  surprised,  but  he  was  not  pleased. 
There  was  one  thing  which  happened  in  practise  on 
the  Yale  field  shortly  before  college  closed  that  had 
"stuck  in  his  crop,"  and  he  was  not  likely  soon  to 


Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek.         99 

forget  it.  Though  he  and  Merriwell  had  been  friends, 
that  thing  had  brought  on  a  coolness  in  his  feelings  for 
Frank. 

Kirk  was  really  a  great  batter,  and  Frank  had  sorely 
wounded  his  pride  by  striking  him  out  before  the 
great  crowd  of  students  assembled  to  witness  the  prac- 
tise work.  Kirk  could  not  forget  it. 

"Glad  to  see  you!"  he  said;  but  his  handclasp  was 
languid  and  his  tone  did  not  show  pleasure. 

"We  just  arrived,"  Merry  volunteered,  as  they 
dropped  into  seats.  "We're  out  for  some  fun  and 
sport  in  the  Adirondacks." 

He  looked  inquiringly  at  Kirk,  who  was  in  base- 
ball costume. 

"Vacation  time,  you  know !"  Frank  went  on.  "There 
are  nine  of  us  in  the  party,  and  we  call  ourselves  an 
athletic  team.  We  believe  that  we  can  play  ball." 

Again  he  glanced  at  Dunstan's  costume.  The  Yale 
captain  flushed  a  little,  still  thinking  of  the  strike-out 
incident,  which  he  was  likely  to  remember  a  long  time. 

"There  are  nine  of  us  up  here,  too,"  he  said,  "and 
we  fancy  that  we  can  play  ball!  You  know  some  of 
them,  Merriwell.  They  are  all  ball-players.  There's 
Curringer!" 

"Oh,  Curringer  ?  The  Princeton  pitcher !  Glad  he's 
here.  He  is  a  great  pitcher." 

Kirk  flushed  again  at  this  mention  of  Princeton, 
though  the  mention  in  this  connection  was  unavoid- 


ioo       Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek. 

able,  as  Kirk  knew.  Curringer  had  pitched  against 
Merriwell,  and  the  game  had  really  been  a  pitcher's 
battle. 

"And  Gait  is  with  us !" 

Gait  was  the  Princeton  catcher,  he  and  Curringer 
having  been  the  Princeton  battery. 

"Then,  there  is  Wadkins,  our  short-stop." 

"Princeton  shows  up  strong,"  was  Merriwell's  com- 
ment. "You  couldn't  find  much  better  men  anywhere. 
But  Yale  is  well  represented.  Wadkins  is  a  clever 
man  in  his  position." 

"Yes,  they're  all  right!"  admitted  Kirk,  who  had 
a  captain's  pride  in  good  ball-men.  "They're  good 
stuff." 

"Then  we  have  Severing,  a  Harvard  man,  for  cen- 
ter-fielder." 

"Severing  is  all  right." 

"And  Putnam,  of  Dartmouth — descendant  of  Old 
Put,  you  know — is  with  us,  too.  He's  a  'south-paw* 
man,  but  he's  great  on  first." 

"Hope  to  meet  these  fellows  soon." 

"They're  all  here  in  the  hotel  somewhere.  Be  round 
by  and  by.  We  have  a  college  nine — picked  men,  you 
understand!  We  think  we  can  play  ball!" 

This  was  said  with  a  certain  emphasis  which  showed 
that  in  Kirk's  mind  there  was  no  doubt  that  the  nine 
of  college  men  that  had  been  got  together  and  were 
now  at  the  Wabeek  ready  to  meet  anything  worthy  of 


Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek.        101 

their  mettle  on  the  diamond  could  hardly  be  beaten  in 
the  great  national  game  by  any  nine  from  anywhere 
outside  of  the  strictly  professional  field.  And  really, 
in  Kirk's  belief,  there  were  few  professional  nines 
that  could  down  this  nine  of  which  he  was  proud  to  be 
a  member. 

"And  you  ?"  he  said  inquiringly.  "You  said  some- 
thing about  a  team?" 

"A  lot  of  college  fellows,  special  friends  of  mine, 
out  for  our  summer  vacation.  We  left  Yale  two  days 
ago,  after  some  preliminaries  and  a  good  deal  of  study 
as  to  where  we  ought  to  go.  We're  out  for  a  good 
time  more  than  anything  else;  and  to  Yale  men  that 
necessarily  means  some  form  of  athletics.  There  are 
nine  of  us,  as  I  said,  and  we  believe  we  can  play  some 
ball,  though  we  are  not  just  dying  to  meet  everything 
in  the  country.  Still,  I  am  sure  we  can  play  ball." 

Kirk  was  wondering  who  the  players  on  this  nine 
were. 

"Friends  of  yours,  you  say?" 

"Oh,  you  know  most  of  them — all  of  them,  I  think. 
HThere  are  Hodge  and  Browning  and  Rattleton  and 
Jack  Ready.  Greg  Carker  is  with  us ;  so  is  Joe  Gamp, 
and  Bink  Stubbs,  and  Danny  Griswold." 

A  doubting  look  that  was  almost  scornful  came  to 
Kirk's  face. 

"Yes,  you've  nine  men  there,  counting  yourself,  but 
I  shouldn't  call  them  ball-players.  Hodg-e  and  Brown- 


IO2        Some  Guests  of  "the  Wabeek. 

ing  will  do,  though  Hodge  has  too  uncertain  a  tem- 
per, and  the  hot  weather  will  take  all  the  baseball  fever 
out  of  Browning." 

"They  told  us  it  never  gets  hot  up  here!"  Frank 
laughed.  "It  never  gets  hot  at  a  summer  resort,  you 
know?" 

"Well,  that  is,  hardly  ever!" 

"So  Bruce  is  all  right,  you  see!" 

"He'll  be  all  right  on  these  piazzas  and  in  these 
easy  chairs.  You'll  never  get  him  to  do  any  work  on 
the  diamond." 

"Which  shows  that  you  don't  know  Bruce  as  well 
as  I  do." 

"And  as  for  the  rest  of  them " 

Kirk  waved  his  hand  meaningly. 

"No  good?" 

"Not  in  it,  Merriwell!" 

"We're  not  out  especially  as  a  ball-team,"  Frank 
corrected.  "Still,  I  believe  we  can  play  ball.  Some 
of  the  fellows  are  camera  cranks,  and  they  want  to 
take  pictures;  others  just  have  the  fever  of  the  woods 
in  their  veins,  and  I  think  I  must  count  myself  among 
that  number.  We  just  want  to  get  away  from  the 
cities  and  from  books  and  all  such  things  for  awhile 
and  have  a  good  time,  and  that  means  a  quiet,  pleas- 
ant trip.  Playing  ball  isn't  quiet,  but  for  us  it's  pleas- 
ant. We  don't  know  just  where  we  will  turn  up  before 
the  summer  ends,  but  our  team " 


Some  Guests  of  the  WafceeR.         103 

"An  athletic  team  I  believe  you  called  it?  Any 
particular  name?" 

"The  fellows  call  themselves  Frank  MerriweH's  Ath- 
letic Team,"  said  Frank,  with  modesty  and  dignity. 
"It  was  of  their  own  select-ion.  Any  other  name,  or 
no  name  at  all,  would  have  done  as  well,  I  suppose." 

A  look  that  was  almost  a  sneer,  and  which  did  not 
escape  Frank's  notice,  chased  itself  like  a  shadow 
across  Kirk's  face.  It  was  gone  almost  as  soon  as  it 
came. 

"A  very  good  name,  I  should  say.  I  must  see  some 
of  the  fellows  and  tell  them  of  your  arrival.  It  will 
stir  their  sluggish  blood  a  little.  They  have  been  here 
only  two  days,  but  long  enough  for  them  to  begin  to 
feel  lazy." 

"Awhile  ago  I  saw  a  fellow  here  named  Herbert 
Hammerswell,"  said  Frank;  "he  is  not  with  your 
party  ?" 

"No." 

"I  didn't  know.  He  might  be  into  a  thing  of  that 
kind,  though  not  as  a  member  of  your  team,  for  he 
is  not  a  college  man,  I  think.  He  has  plenty  of  money, 
so  that  he  can*  do  pretty  much  as  he  fancies,  since  his 
father  died — I  read  in  a  newspaper  of  his  father's 
death." 

"Don't  know  him !"  said  Kirk. 

Then  he  hastened  away  for  the  purpose  of  telling  the 
baseball  nine  of  which  he  was  captain  and  manager  ofi 


104       Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek. 

the  arrival  of  Frank  Merriwell's  Athletic  Team,  whicH 
he  evidently  looked  upon  with  some  scorn. 

Bart  Hodge  came  up  and  took  the  chair  vacated  by; 
Kirk. 

"I'm  sorry  that  Hammerswell  is  here,"  he  declared, 
with  a  show  of  displeasure  and  uneasiness.  "You 
know  the  dirt  he  did,  or  tried  to  do,  last  summer.  I 
wish  he  was  somewhere  else  just  now!" 

"So  do  I,"  Frank  admitted.  "We'll  have  to  keep 
our  eyes  open,  that's  all!" 

"He  will  do  anything,  that  fellow!  He's  a  scoun- 
drel from  the  ground  up.  I'll  bet  a  dollar  he's  hatch- 
ing up  some  scheme  this  very  minute.  It  is  just  like 
him.  He'll  make  trouble  for  us  before  we  get  out  of 
here;  see  if  he  doesn't!" 

Herbert  Hammerswell  had  come  into  a  consider- 
able property  since  the  death  of  his  father,  the  Honor- 
able Artemus  Hammerswell,  and  he  was  using  it  with 
a  liberal  hand.  He  had  servants  and  horses  and 
hounds,  with  a  yacht  on  the  sea  and  a  hunting-lodge 
in  the  hills.  He  seemed  to  feel  that  the  amount  he  had 
inherited  was  so  great  that  it  could  not  be  dissipated,  a 
folly  of  which  better  young  men  than  Herbert  Ham- 
merswell have  been  guilty. 

"If  there  is  a  fellow  on  the  earth  that  I  simply  hate, 
it  is  Frank  Merriwell !"  Hammerswell  was  saying  to 
himself,  as  he  strolled  through  some  timber  back  oi 
the  Wabeek  the  next  day. 


borne  Guests  of  the  Wabeek.        105 

He  had  a  camera  slung  at  his  shoulder,  with  which 
he  had  been  taking  snap-shots  at  various  objects  in 
his  walk.  Hammerswell  had  developed  into  some- 
thing of  a  faddist  in  the  field  of  amateur  photography 
and  was  able  to  do  creditable  work. 

All  at  once  he  came  to  an  uncertain  stop  while  his 
face  paled  and  his  hands  shook.  What  seemed  to  be 
a  dead  man  was  lying  in  the  path  directly  in  front 
of  him. 

"Dan  Romine !"  he  gasped.  "Dead  as  a  hammer,  I 
guess.  How  did  that  happen?  Couldn't  have 
been " 

He  stopped  and  glanced  furtively  about. 

"Some  of  Merriwell's  friends  had  trouble  with  Dan 
yesterday.  It  was  that  tall,  awkward  fellow  they  call 
Gamp,  I  think,  and  Merriwell  was  in  a  rage,  they  said, 
because  Dan  threw  that  gum  into  his  face.  It  made 
Merriwell  simply  fierce.  Can  that  account " 

He  stepped  forward  and  took  a  look  at  the  face. 

"Just  been  done !"  he  said.  "Perhaps  the  fellow  isn't 
dead,  after  all." 

Blood  was  trickling  from  Dan  Romine's  nostrils. 
Herbert  stoope'd  over  Romine,  shook  him,  decided  that 
if  he  wasn't  dead,  he  was  little  better  than  a  dead 
man,  and  again  glanced  about.  Suddenly  his  face 
changed,  and  the  camera  came  off  his  shoulders. 

"I'll  just  get  a  snap-shot  of  him  as  he  lies  there." 

With  that,  he  stepped  back  a  proper  distance,  leveled 


lo6        Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek. 

the  camera,  steadied  it  a  moment,  and  pressed  the 
button.  This  he  repeated  several  times. 

"I  think  I'd  ought  to  hurry  on  and  report  this!  If 
it  wasn't  for  getting  blood  on  my  hands  and  clothes 
I'd  find  out  for  certain  if  he  is  dead.  I  should  like  to 
know  how  it  happened." 

Then  Hammerswell,  with  heartless  callousness, 
walked  on  down  the  path,  leaving  Dan  Romine  lying 
there,  without  trying  to  aid  him.  Down  the  path 
farther,  at  the  other  edge  of  the  woods  and  nearer  the 
lake,  was  a  rustic  cottage  that  Hammerswell  had  never 
chanced  on  in  the  few  days  he  had  been  at  the  Wabeek. 

Within  the  cottage  at  that  moment  were  a  number 
of  Merriwell's  friends,  who  had  returned  from  a  ram- 
ble along  the  shores  of  Wabeek  Lake  and  were  stop- 
ping there  for  a  brief  rest.  As  they  rested  they  talked 
of  the  University  Nine,  as  the  nine  under  the  manage- 
ment of  Dunstan  Kirk  called  themselves. 

"Kirk  simply  thinks  those  fellows  can  earth  the 
wipe — I  mean,  wipe  the  earth — with  us,"  Rattleton 
rather  excitedly  exclaimed.  "I  want  Merry  to  send 
them  a  challenge.  We'll  be  able  to  show  them  a  trick 
or  two." 

"Trouble  with  Kirk  is,  that  Merry  struck  him  out  in 
a  way  to  turn  his  head,"  said  Bruce.  "It's  turned  it, 
I  guess." 

"He  says  you  can't  play  ball!"  reminded  Jack 
Ready. 


Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek.         107 

"Don't  want  to  play  ball,"  Bruce  grunted;  "but  I'd 
forego  my  own  inclination  to  help  wallop  those  fel- 
lows." 

"With  Merry  and  Bart  as  the  battery,  we  can  ever- 
lastingly do  'em  up!"  Danny  declared.  "See  me  hit 
'em!  Whack!  Three-bagger!  Run,  you  sinners, 
run !  We  ought  to  have  Dismal  to  howl  for  us  once  in 
awhile." 

"We'll  all  howl  when  you  hit  a  three-bagger !" 

"Get  your  throats  into  form,  then,  for  I'll  do  it  the 
first  game  that  we  play.  I've  been  practising  at  night 
while  you  fellows  have  been  asleep.  I  can  hit  the " 

"Atmosphere  every  time !"  Bink  scornfully  declared. 

"Oh,  if  I  couldn't  play  ball  any  better  than  you,  I'd 
go  away  and  hide  my  diminished  head!"  squealed 
Danny. 

"If  you  had  any  modesty  you  would  do  that  any 
way!"  Bink  retorted.  "But  we'll  likely  be  troubled 
with  you  all  summer!" 

"They  have  some  mighty  good  players,"  said  Bart, 
returning  to  the  subject  of  the  Wabeek  nine.  "They 
won't  be  easy,  but  I  believe  we  could  do  them." 

"Only  my  well-known  and  excessive  modesty  keeps 
me  from  declaring  that  I  know  we  can  do  them !"  said 
Jack  &eady.  "When  I  was  a  little  boy  one  of  my 
good  old  aunties  taught  me  that  self-praise  is  half- 
scandal.  Hence,  when  I  have  a  chance  to  throw  bou- 


io8        some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek. 

quets  at  myself,  I  refrain.  I  really  think  that  we  art 
the  real  thing,  but  I'd  die  before  saying  so." 

Bruce  seemed  to  arouse  himself.  He  had  been 
standing  near  a  small  open  window  of  rustic  work, 
glancing  lazily  through  the  woods. 

"What  in  thunder  is  that  fellow  up  to  now?"  he 
drawled,  with  the  least  bit  of  excitement  manifest. 
"That's  what  I'd  like  to  know?" 

"Who?"  asked  Rattleton,  hopping  up. 

Bart  also  arose  and  looked  in  the  direction  indicated. 

"That's  Herbert  Hammerswell !"  he  snarled. 

"Taking  a  picture  of  this  cottage !"  declared  Ready. 
"Apparently  he  doesn't  know  that  there  is  more  beauty; 
upon  its  inside  than  upon  its  outside." 

"Perhaps  he  is  trying  to  photograph  you  through 
the  walls  with  an  X-ray?"  suggested  Carker. 

Herbert  Hammerswell  was  only  a  few  yards  distant, 
half -concealed  in  some  bushes,  and  apparently  trying 
to  get  a  view  of  the  cottage  for  photographic  pur- 
poses. 

"Don't  care  about  making  his  acquaintance,"  grum- 
bled Bart.  "Knew  the  scoundrel  too  well  last  year!" 

"Well,  he's  coming — no,  he's  going!" 

Hammerswell  was  withdrawing  into  the  bushes, 
as  if  for  the  purpose  of  moving  away. 

"Got  his  X-ray  and  is  satisfied !"  said  Carker.  "And 
we're  satisfied.  From  what  I've  heard-  I  don't  think  I 


Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek.        109 

care  anything  about  cultivating  his  acquaintance  my- 
self." 

Bruce  dropped  down  into  his  chair  again  and  looked 
out  of  the  door.  He  was  not  much  interested  in  young1 
Hammerswell.  In  fact,  the  day  promised  to  be  hot, 
and  Bruce  was  keeping  as  quiet  as  he  could. 

"Hello!  here  comes  Merriwell.  Got  a  snake,  I  de- 
clare!" 

Frank  Merriwell  appeared  in  the  doorway  of  the 
cottage  as  Bruce  spoke,  holding  up  an  ugly-looking 
serpent  which  he  had  a  moment  before  despatched  with 
a  club. 

"Great  snakes!"  chirped  Bink.  "Who'd  have 
thought  of  serpents  in  such  a  place?" 

"They  were  in  the  Garden  of  Eden,  you  know," 
Carker  reminded.  "The  world  is  full  of  them." 

"You're  speaking  of  two-legged  ones,  now!"  said 
Danny. 

"Yes.  The  heartless  plutocrats  and  bond-holders 
and  moneyed  classes,  to  say  nothing  of  the  trusts, 
which  are  squeezing  the  life  out  of  the  people.  A 
snake  like  the  one  Merry  has  is  an  innocent  thing  com- 
pared with  the  other  kind.  If  the  people  fail  to  grap- 
ple resolutely  with  the  trust  octopus,  it  will  simply 
strangle  the  life  out  of  them.  But  I  believe  that  the 
people  will  arouse  yet  to  their  danger,  and  that  the 
wealthy  oligarchy  which  has  this  country  by  the  throat 
will  be  throttled.  And  when  the  people  arouse,  there 


no       some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek. 

will  be  an  awful  earthquake.  The  French  Revolution 
will  be  outdone,  unless  the  ruling-  and  wealthy  classes 
are  wise  enough  to  bow  gracefully  to  the  inevitable." 

The  boys  were  accustomed  to  Carker,  so  they  paid 
little  attention  to  his  talk. 

"Where'd  you  get  him?"  asked  Hodge,  speaking  to 
Merriwell  and  pointing  at  the  snake. 

"Right  out  there." 

"Great  advertisement  for  a  summer  hotel !"  grunted 
Browning.  "Put  that  in  the  papers  and  the  Wabeek 
won't  have  a  dozen  women  as  guests  this  summer." 

"And  that  would  break  your  heart." 

"That's  what  Bruce  came  down  here  for,"  warbled 
Danny.  "Of  course  he  is  an  adore " 

"There's  a-door,  too!"  Browning  growled.  "I'll 
pitch  you  through  the  hole  that  the  carpenter  left  if 
you  don't  stop  that  chatter.  Merry  hasn't  told  us 
where  he  got  the  snake?" 

"Right  out  there,"  Merriwell  repeated.  "He  was 
crawling  down  the  path  when  I  saw  him,  and  batted 
him  in  the  back." 

"Ought  to  have  saved  him  for  right-fielder  in  place 
of  Griswold,"  said  Bink.  "He'd  get  around  faster." 

"Hah !"  Danny  snorted.  "You  think  you're  a  crack- 
ajack, just  because  Merry  is  going  to  let  you  play 
short-stop.  When  things  are  moving  you'll  tie  your- 
self into  more  knots  than  any  ribbon  snake  that  ever 
knotted." 


Some  Guests  of  the  Wabeek.        1 1 1 

"I  will  knot !"  Bink  snorted.  "And  I  will  knot  take 
such  stuff  from  you.  If  you'll  prance  over  here  I'll 
put  some  knots  on  your  head  that  will  be  a  puzzle  to 
a  phrenologist." 

"Oh,  yes,  you're  wonderfully  brave." 

"I'm  as  brave  as  you  are !" 

"Just  come  over  here!"  Danny  begged. 

Bink  made  a  rush,  but  stopped  with  a  howl,  for 
Merriwell  gave  the  snake  a  toss  in  their  direction  to 
keep  them  apart  and  the  clammy  thing  dropped  down 
on  Bink's  neck. 

"Wow!"  he  screeched,  falling  to  the  floor.  "Wow! 
Take  it  off!" 

"Oh,  you're  a  brave  man!"  sneered  Danny. 

But  the  words  were  scarcely  out  of  his  mouth  when 
Bink,  made  desperate  by  that  clammy  feeling,  caught 
the  snake  by  the  tail  and  gave  it  a  toss.  It  went 
straight  up  into  the  air,  and  seemed  about  to  fall  upon 
Danny,  who,  with  a  screech  rushed  backward  and 
knocked  Joe  Gamp  rolling  to  the  floor. 

When  the  snake  fell  Merriwell  kicked  it  out  of 
doors. 

"Of  course  you're  a  brave  man !"  scouted  Bink.  "I'd 
go  off  and  hide  somewhere.  Afraid  of  a  dead  snake!'* 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    MYSTERY. 

When  Merriwell  and  his  friends  returned  to  the 
Wabeek  they  found  the  guests  in  a  state  of  excite- 
ment. Herbert  Hammerswell  had  come  in  and  re- 
ported that  he  had  found  Dan  Romine  either  dead  or 
dying  in  the  path  in  the  woods. 

"I  wondered  where  Dan  could  be  all  this  time?" 
said  the  hotel  proprietor,  whose  name  was  Dimmick. 
"Dan  has  been  staying  here  pretty  close  for  several 
days.  He  has  been  sleeping  in  the  barn  every  night 
for  a  week.  Last  night  he  wasn't  in  the  barn,  and  I 
didn't  see  him  around  here  all  day  yesterday.  No- 
body seems  to  have  seen  him  since  he  went  up  to  the 
station." 

Hammerswell  gave  Frank  Merriwell  a  meaning  and 
malignant  look.  That  look  said  as  plainly  as  words: 

"I  rather  think  that  Frank  Merriwell  could  tell  the 
secret  of  this  mysterious  disappearance,  and  who  it 
was  that  struck  Romine  down." 

Aloud  he  said : 

"From  the  looks  of  things,  I  think  Romine  was 
struck  down  with  a  club.  There  was  a  gash  in  his 
head  which  seemed  to  have  been  made  with  a  club. 


A  Mystery.  113 

And  I  think  it  was  done  some  time  ago — perhaps 
yesterday." 

Hammerswell  was  getting  into  deep  water.    He  was 
so  anxious  to  frame  and  fit  a  theory  that  would 
some  way  involve  Frank  Merriwell  that  he  forgot  cau-   r 
tion.    But  it  was  sometimes  difficult  for  Hammerswell 
to  tell  the  truth,  even  when  telling  the  truth  seemed 
easier  and  safer  than  telling  a  lie. 

"We'll  go  along  with  you,"  said  Merriwell. 

Some  of  the  hotel  servants  hastily  appeared  with 
a  sort  of  stretcher,  and  the  party,  consisting  of  nearly 
all  the  guests  of  the  hotel,  set  out  for  the  place  where 
Hammerswell  had  come  on  Romine.  When  they  got 
there  Romine  had  disappeared. 

No  one  was  more  astonished  than  Herbert  Ham- 
merswell. And  again  he  looked  at  Merriwell  in  that 
suspicious,  searching  way.  It  came  to  him  that  per- 
haps Merriwell  had  dragged  the  body  of  Romine 
away  and  concealed  it.  Of  course,  if  Frank  had  done 
that,  it  would  be  pretty  good  evidence  that  he  did  not 
want  the  body  seen,  and  this  would  very  suggestively 
indicate  that  he  was  really  the  one  who  had  done  the 
bloody  deed.  There  had  been  trouble  between  Romine 
and  a  member  of  Merriwell's  party,  and  Romine  had 
angered  Frank  by  throwing  that  gum  into  his  eyes ! 

Hammerswell's  head  fairly  swam  as  all  these  beauti- 
ful theories  and  possibilities  crowded  through  it.  The 
surprise  occasioned  by  the  disappearance  of  Romine, 


114  A  Mystery. 

whom  nearly  every  one  expected  to  find  lying  mur- 
dered in  the  path,  had  not  passed  away,  when  Frank 
Merriwell  was  more  astonished  than  words  can  ex- 
press to  behold  the  bushes  separate  and  John  Swift- 
wing,  the  Carlisle  Indian  student,  stand  in  the  open- 
ing, ringed  in  by  a  frame  of  green. 

Swiftwing  never  looked  handsomer  nor  more  ath- 
letic, though  his  civilized  clothing  hid  much  of  the 
beauty  of  his  symmetry.  He  had  the  complexion  and 
face  of  an  Indian,  with  the  grace  and  strength  of  one 
of  the  old  fighting  gods.  Merriwell  had  not  seen  him 
since  those  eventful  days  at  the  far-away  peublo  of 
Taos,  where  Swiftwing  for  a  brief  time  had  'been  his 
red  rival. 

"John  Swiftwing!"  he  exclaimed. 

"So  you  remember  me!"  said  Swiftwing,  stepping 
out  of  the  frame  of  green  and  coming  forward.  "I 
did  not  know  but  you  had  forgotten  me." 

There  was  a  tinge  of  bitterness  in  his  words. 

"On  the  contrary,  I  have  thought  of  you  often  and 
am  glad  to  see  you," 

Merriwell  cordially  took  Swiftwing's  hand.  He 
would  have  asked  some  questions. 

"We're  in  a  puzzle  here,  John !"  said  the  proprietor. 
"We  expected  to  find  Romine  dead  out  here,  and  we 
find  nothing.  Mr.  Hammerswell  saw  him  here  awhile 
ago." 

"He  was  lying  right  there !"  Herbert  exclaimed.    "I 


A  Mystery.  115 

saw  him.  Somebody  must  have  carried  the  body 
away." 

Again  he  glanced  at  Merriwell,  but  no  one  seemed 
to  take  note  of  this.  Swiftwing's  face  changed. 

"Romine?"  he  asked. 

"It  was  Romine,  I  am  quite  sure!"  Hammerswell 
insisted.  "I " 

He  was  about  to  say  that  he  had  taken  some  photo- 
graphs of  Romine  as  he  lay  in  the  path,  but  something 
checked  the  words.  Swiftwing  stooped  over  the  spot 
which  Herbert  pointed  out. 

"I'm  a  Pueblo  and  my  people  are  not  good  at  such 
things  as  are  some  Indians,"  he  said.  "Now  an 
Apache!  But  my  people  have  been  tillers  of  the  soil 
as  long  as  any  one  can  remember,  and  they,  like  the 
white  men,  have  largely  lost  the  power  of  trailing.  But 
I  can  see  blood  on  the  ground  here." 

He  pointed  out  the  blood  which  still  dampened  the 
soil. 

"That  was  done  not  long  ago !"  he  muttered,  as  he 
hunted  about,  trying  to  find  further  evidence.  "He 
was  dead,  you  say?" 

He  turned  to  Herbert. 

"I — I  thought  so!"  Herbert  faltered,  remembering 
that  it  was  not  safe  to  be  too  positive,  since  this  indi- 
cated that  the  deed  was  of  recent  occurrence. 

"Then  he  couldn't  have  walked  awav  l" 


n6  A  Mystery. 

"Somebody  carried  him  away,  I  think!"  said  Harn- 
merswell  fiercely. 

"Of  course,  if  he  couldn't  walk!"  and  Swiftwing's 
voice  held  a  note  that  Herbert  did  not  like  to  hear. 

"We'll  have  to  make  a  thorough  search  of  the 
woods!"  advised  Dimmick.  "If  he  has  been  dragged 
away,  probably  we'll  find  him.  But  I  can't  understand 
this  thing,  and  I  don't  like  it." 

Herbert  was  wildly  hoping  that  Romine's  body 
would  be  found  in  some  out-of-the-way  nook,  and  that 
in  some  manner  evidence  pointing  toward  Merriwell 
as  the  guilty  party  could  be  manufactured  or  found. 
He  even  began  to  wish  that  he  had  thought  of  it  and 
had  himself  dragged  Romine  away. 

"But  some  one  might  have  seen  me  and  laid  it  to 
me!"  he  mentally  gasped,  as  soon  as  the  thought  had 
passed  through  his  evil,  scheming  brain.  "That 
wouldn't  have  done,  you  know !  I  want  the  thing  laid 
to  Merriwell,  not  to  me !" 

The  search  was  carried  on  at  first  in  a  harum- 
scarum  way,  but  soon  a  more  organized  and  thorough 
search  was  instituted,  which,  under  the  direction  of 
Frank  Merriwell,  covered  all  the  woodland  and  lake- 
shore  in  the  vicinity. 

But  Romine,  living  or  dead,  could  not  be  found.  A 
sneaking,  crafty,  almost  triumphant  look  was  in  the 
face  of  Herbert  Hammerswell  when  the  searching 
parties  announced  their  failure. 


A  Mystery.  117 

"I  can  make  things  come  my  way,"  he  muttered, 
"and  I  guess  I  will !" 

Having  reached  this  satisfactory  conclusion,  Her- 
bert Hammerswell  crept  back  into  the  woods  as  dark- 
ness was  falling,  and  going  to  a  spot  with  which  he 
seemed  familiar  he  took  up  from  a  small  clump  of 
bushes  a  heavy,  broken,  clublike  bough  and  carried  it 
farther  into  the  timber,  where  he  cast  it  into  a  mass 
of  thick  undergrowth. 

After  he  had  discovered  Romine  lying  in  the  path, 
and  had  taken  the  snap-shot  near  the  cottage  tem- 
porarily occupied  by  Merriwell's  friends,  Hammers- 
well  had  returned  to  the  point  in  the  path  where  Ro- 
mine lay.  The  bough  which  he  now  cast  away  he  had 
found  at  that  time  lying  near  Romine,  and  had  borne 
it  to  the  small  clump  and  cast  it  there,  just  as  he  now 
cast  it  into  the  thicker  mass  of  undergrowth. 

"They'll  not  find  that!"  he  muttered,  breathing 
more  freely  when  the  clublike  bit  of  wood  was  safely 
hidden.  "I'm  going  to  pin  things  down  on  Merrivvell 
sure.  I  never  had  him  in  such  a  trap.  I  believe  I  have 
evidence  that  will  convict  him  of  murder.  And  when 
I  strike,  I  will  strike  harder  than  that  club  did !" 

Herbert  crept  back  to  the  hotel  as  quietly  as  he  had 
crept  away,  but  he  was  much  longer  in  making  his 
return  trip,  and  the  woods  and  hills  and  lake  had 
grown  quite  dark.  As  he  reentered  the  Wabeek  and 


Ii8  A  Mystery. 

slipped  along  the  corridor  on  the  second  floor  he  heard 
Merriwell's  name  mentioned. 

This  was  enough  to  make  him  stop  and  bend  in  a 
listening  attitude.  Some  of  the  college  men,  members 
of  the  University  Nine,  were  in  a  room  talking.  Her- 
bert was  so  anxious  to  know  what  they  were  saying 
about  Merriwell  that  he  slipped  into  an  adjoining 
room,  which  chanced  to  be  empty  and  open.  The  room 
was  dark  as  a  pocket,  and  he  half-feared  he  might 
stumble  against  some  one  in  the  darkness,  but  he  soon 
convinced  himself  that  he  was  alone. 

"I  believe  the  people  here  are  beginning  to  suspect 
Merriwell  of  that !"  Hammerswell  thought,  as  he  bent 
again  in  a  listening  attitude.  "Perhaps  I'll  hear  some- 
thing that  will  help  me." 

"Equal  to  farce-comedy!"  Dunstan  Kirk  was  say- 
ing. "Did  you  see  their  ball-suits?  I  got  a  look  at 
some  of  them.  Hodge  and  Browning  and  some  others 
were  out  on  the  diamond  tossing  the  ball  around 
awhile  to-day.  Blue  suits,  with  a  Yale  Y !  Think  of 
it!" 

"I  suppose  they  will  make  people  think  they  are  a 
regular  college  team,"  said  Curringer  sneeringly. 
"What  right  have  they  to  put  on  such  togs  ?" 

"That's  what  I  should  like  to  know.  It  is  simply  to 
gain  notoriety.  Can't  be  any  other  reason.  I  wonder 
they  didn't  call  themselves  the  Yale  team." 


A  Mystery.  119 

"They  would  hardly  dare  to  do  that,"  said  Wad- 
kins,  the  regular  Yale  short-stop. 

"I  don't  suppose  they  would  do  it  if  they  could," 
said  Curringer.  "They  are  all  Merriwell  worshipers-, 
and,  of  course,  they  would  be  bound  to  ring  in  Merri- 
well's  name  some  way.  Frank  Merriwell's  Athletic 
Team!" 

"Don't  sound  bad!"  remarked  Putnam,  of  Dart- 
mouth. 

"Well,  I've  sent  them  a  challenge,"  Kirk  announced. 

The  listener  in  the  other  room  could  hear  a  rustling1, 
as  if  the  men  were  moving  in  their  seats,  or  drawing 
together  because  of  increased  interest. 

"Good!" 

"They  won't  accept  it." 

"We'll  put  it  all  over  them  if  they  do." 

"That  aggregation !  I'm  almost  surprised  that  you 
should  do  such  a  thing,  Kirk." 

"You  were  away,  Wadkins,  when  we  talked  it  over. 
The  others  were  in  favor  of  it." 

"Those  fellows  can't  play  ball.  Merriwell's  a  fool 
for  holding  out  the  idea  that  they  can.  They  are  sim- 
ply a  collection  of  freaks.  Did  you  ever  see  such  an 
assortment  of  wonders?" 

"Sort  of  happy  family !"  drawled  a  voice. 

"Just  so,"  said  another.  "Browning  would  do  for 
the  elephant  and  Gamp  for  the  giraffe,  and  those  little 
fellows  would  do  for  the  monkeys." 


I2O  A  Mystery. 

"The  idea  of  that  layout  playing  ball!" 

"It  does  seem  a  sort  of  condescension  to  challenge 
them !"  Kirk  admitted. 

"Simply  lowering  the  University  Nine  to  go  against 
that  mob!  We've  got  together  some  of  the  best  men 
from  leading  colleges,  while  Merriwell  has  a  handful 
of  his  friends!" 

"And  such  friends!" 

"Merriwell  is  all  right  in  his  way,  but " 

"You  haven't  heard  from  the  challenge?" 

"No.    I  ought  to  have  it  soon." 

"Taking  time  to  think  it  over !" 

Hammerswell,  with  his  ear  against  the  partition 
wall,  did  not  hear  much  that  promised  to  assist  him  in 
his  schemes,  but  it  warmed  his  heart  to  know  there 
were  other  men  who  seemed  to  have  a  very  poor 
opinion  of  Frank  Merriwell  and  his  friends. 

"College  men,  too!"  he  muttered.  "Men  from  the 
leading  colleges — ball-players  and  athletes!" 

Hammerswell  failed  to  reflect  that  a  man  may  have 
enemies  and  still  be  honorable,  of  stainless  character 
and  very  much  a  man.  Sometimes  a  man's  enemies 
say  as  much  for  his  good  qualities  as  the  friends  he 
gathers  round  him. 

"All  their  sympathy  will  be  against  Merriwell,  and 
that  will  help  me.  of  course.  I  believe  they'd  be  ready 
to  move  against  him  now  if  the  opportunity  came !" 


A  Mystery.  121 

Herbert  was  so  busily  engaged  in  his  eavesdropping 
that  he  failed  to  hear  footsteps  that  were  coming  down 
the  hall  until  they  were  almost  opposite  the  door.  He 
turned  round  with  sudden  anxiety,  which  changed  to  a 
chill  as  the  footsteps  advanced  to  the  door  of  the  room 
he  occupied.  He  wanted  to  make  a  wild  dash  for  the 
hall,  whose  light  he  could  see  through  the  opening,  but 
the  newcomers  stopped  right  in  the  doorway,  thus 
blocking  his  chances. 

"It's  those  college  men,"  he  heard  a  voice  say. 

Dunstan  Kirk  and  his  friends  seemed  to  be  vacating 
the  room  they  had  used.  Hammerswell  was  agitated. 
He  was  near  a  corner  which  held  some  coat-hooks,  and 
not  knowing  what  else  to  do  he  crept  softly  into  this 
corner,  and  while  the  noise  made  by  the  retiring  Yale 
men  covered  his  movements  he  drew  a  coat  in  front 
of  him. 

"Perhaps  I  can  get  a  chance  to  make  a  break !"  he 
thought.  "I  can  pull  this  coat  down  and  hide  my  face 
with  it  when  I  run.  They  won't  know  who  I  am." 

But  these  reflections  did  not  relieve  his  anxiety,  and 
when  the  two  men  came  through  the  doorway  and 
seemed  to  his  -excited  mind  to  be  advancing  straight 
toward  him  his  alarm  became  great.  The  gas  was 
lighted  with  a  blinding  flash  which  seemed  to  pene- 
trate through  the  sheltering  coat  and  cut  away  every 
shielding  thread.  He  felt  himself  to  be  trembling  so 
violently  that  the  coat  appeared  to  shake. 


122  A  Mystery. 

"Talking  about  Merriwell !"  said  a  voice,  as  the  door 
was  closed. 

The  speaker  was  John  Swiftwing,  the  Pueblo  In- 
dian. Chairs  seemed  to  be  moved  out,  and  the  Indian 
spoke  again. 

"I've  as  good  a  right  to  be  a  gentleman  as  Merriwell 
has,  and  I'm  going  to  be  to-night.  What  do  you  think 
of  the  room  ?" 

The  room  was  handsomely  furnished  and  overlooked 
the  lake. 

"Great  stuff!    Boss!" 

Hammerswell  knew  that  the  first  speaker  was  Swift- 
wing,  whom  he  had  several  times  seen,  and  the  voice 
of  the  second  speaker  told  that  he  was  a  white  man, 
though  not  of  the  higher  grades. 

"Just  as  good  a  right  to  be  a  gentleman  as  he  has, 
and  so  I  took  this  room  for  to-night.  I'm  a  gentleman 
to-night,  and  a  white  man,  so  far  as  money  can  make 
me  one!" 

There  was  a  sort  of  bitter,  defiant  scorn  in  the  words 
and  tone  that  seemed  to  burn  the  tongue  that  uttered 
them. 

"Pretty  hard  to  make  a  gentleman  out  o'  me,  though 
I'm  white  enough.  That  is  I  would  be  white  if  it 
wasn't  for  the  wind  and  the  sun.  If  a  feller  tramps 
through  these  mountains  as  I  have,  he  can't  be  white." 

"And  as  I  have!" 


A  Mystery.  123 

"Ain't  any  better  er  more  faithful  guide  in  these 
mountains  than  you  are,  John  Swiftwing !" 

"That's  so,  Totten.  I  can  be  a  woodsman,  and  that 
is  as  near  as  any  man  can  come  to  being  neither  Indian, 
nor  white.  A  woodsman,  a  guide — and  a  nothing !" 

"No  use  flinging  clubs  at  the  house  you  live  in/* 
growled  Totten,  who  did  not  like  this  sort  of  talk. 

"That's  the  way  you  look  at  it,  Si.  But — well,  you 
can't  understand  what  I  would  say — so  what's  the 
use?" 

"What  you  goin'  to  say  ?"  questioned  Totten,  some- 
what touched  by  this  outburst. 

"You're  a  white  man,  and  you  can't  understand. 
.When  I  saw  Merriwell  I  felt  as  the  rattlesnake  feels 
when  the  road-runner  hems  it  in." 

"How's  that?" 

"The  road-runner  is  a  bird,  you  know.  When  it 
finds  a  sleeping  rattlesnake,  it  rings  it  in  with  cactus 
spines  and  wakes  it.  The  helplessness  of  the  snake 
throws  it  into  such  a  rage  that  it  bites  itself  and  dies. 
That's  the  story.  When  I  saw  Merriwell  I  felt  that  I 
wanted  to  sneak  away  somewhere  like  a  poisoned  rat 
and  die.  But  I"  braced  myself.  I  said  to  myself  that 
I  am  as  good  a  man  as  Merriwell  or  any  of  his  friends, 
even  if  I  am  an  Indian.  And  so  I  went  to  the  pro- 
prietor and  offered  him  enough  money  to  induce  him 
to  let  me  have  this  room  to-night — one  of  the  best  in 
the  hotel.  Money  will  do  anything,  Si — except  make 


124  A  Mystery. 

an  Indian  a  white  man.     The  trouble  with  me  is  that 
I'm  neither  an  Indian  nor  a  white  man !" 

This  was  said  with  such  fierce  emphasis,  though  the 
tone  was  low,  that  Herbert  Hammerswell  shivered  in 
his  hiding-place. 

"Heavens!  I  wish  I  war  out  of  this!"  Herbert 
mentally  moaned. 

Still,  he  was  pleased  to  know  that  another  man  at 
the  Wabeek  seemed  to  hate  Frank  Merriwell,  and,  even 
though  he  was  trembling  with  fear  and  anxiety,  he 
could  but  wonder  if  this  might  not  in  some  way  be 
used  to  Merriwell's  undoing  in  the  scheme  which  he 
had  evolved  for  Frank's  overthrow. 

"My  room!"  exclaimed  Swiftwing,  surveying  it 
"Money  is  a  great  thing." 

"B'lieve  I'd  ruther  have  a  good  eddication!" 
"Bah !    I  thought  so  once.    When  you  have  gained 
an  education,   what  does   it  amount  to  ?     Educated 
brains  are  simply  a  drug  on  the  market.   You  can  buy 
brains  for  less  than  the  pay  of  an  Adirondack  guide." 

He  rose  from  his  chair,  crossed  the  room,  and  hung 
his  hat  not  far  from  the  corner  in  which  Hammerswell 
was  tremblingly  hiding. 

"My  hat-peg — for  to-night !  Mine,  for  as  long  as  I 
'have  the  wherewith  to  pay  for  it.  Even  my  red  In- 
dian blood  didn't  close  this  establishment  against  me — 
simply  because  I  paid  the  double  price  the  proprietor 
asked,  and  because  the  season  so  far  has  not  brought 


A  Mystery.  125 

him  the  number  of  guests  he  wants.  A  little  later  and 
even  money  wouldn't  let  me  in  here.  For  I  am  simply 
'that  Indian,'  John  Swiftwing,  the  Adirondack  guide." 

"How'd  y'ever  happen  to  be  a  guide  up  here,  any- 
way? You  ain't  a  York  State  Indian." 

"No,  I'm  a  Pueblo.  I  don't  like  to  talk  about  the 
thing,  so  I've  never  told  you,  Si,  even  though  we  have 
tramped  and  camped  and  slept  together.  I  was  trying 
to  forget  it.  I  could  never  forget  it  with  Merriwett 
near  me. 

"I  am  an  Indian,  a  Pueblo,  but  I  was  educated  at 
the  Carlisle  school — the  college  for  Indians,  you  know ! 
I  was  one  of  their  best  football-players  and  a  good 
baseball-player.  I  played  against  Merriwell,  who  was 
on  the  Yale  eleven.  Later  I  met  him  at  my  home,  the 
pueblo  of  Taos,  in  New  Mexico.  He  and  some  of  his 
friends  were  there  to  witness  the  dances  and  races  and 
ceremonies  of  St.  Geronimo's  day.  With  his  party 
was  a  beautiful  girl.  I  can't  tell  you,  Si,  how  hand- 
some she  looked  to  me,  with  her  bright  eyes  and  dark 
hair.  I  thought  she  loved  me.  I  threw  her  across  a 
horse  while  the  races  were  going  on,  for  I  thought  she 
would  be  glad  to  fly  with  me.  I  was  pursued  by  Mer- 
riwell and  a  company,  who  were  raging  for  my  blood. 
But  they  could  not  have  taken  her  away  from  me.  I 
knew  places  in  those  mountains  to  which  they  could 
never  have  come.  But  I  found  that  she  didn't  love 
me.  Her  bright  glances,  her  sweet  smiles,  her  almost 


126  A  Mystery. 

loving  looks,  had  been  given  to  me  simply" — he  seemed 
to  choke — "simply  because  she  adraired  my  fine  form 
and  my  abilities  as  an  athlete !  I  called  her  the  White 
Dove — my  White  Dove ;  but  I  did  not  want  the  White 
Dove  after  that.  If  I  had  not  been  spoiled  by  the 
white  man's  education  and  the  white  man's  books,  I 
should  have  held  her  and  made  her  my  wife.  But  I 
permitted  her  to  go.  I  took  her  to  meet  Merriwell, 
who  was  pursuing  me  with  a  rifle  lifted  to  shoot  me 
through  the  heart.  I  let  her  go.  My  heart  turned 
to  water.  I  was  not  an  Indian,  though  I  had  heard 
Merriwell's  friends  scornfully  call  me  one. 

"When  I  returned  to  my  people  and  they  discovered 
what  I  had  done — learned  the  whole  story,  they 
scorned  me,  as  I  knew  they  would.  They  already  dis- 
liked me  because  I  had  been  to  the  white  man's  school, 
Now  they  hated  me  because  I  had  a  white  man's  heart. 
They  called  me  a  white  man.  I  was  neither  a  white 
man  nor  an  Indian,  Si  Totten.  Just  a  thing  despised 
by  the  white  men  and  scorned  by  the  red.  A  man 
born  with  a  red  heart,  which  was  spoiled  in  the  vain 
attempt  to  make  it  white.  I  left  the  pueblo,  and  I 
have  never  seen  it  since.  I  wandered  about  until  finally 
I  found  this  place  up  here.  A  guide  of  the  Adiron- 
dacks  is  as  near  to  being  neither  white  man  nor  Indian 
as  it  is  possible  to  be.  I  became  a  guide  of  the  Adiron- 
dacks.  To-night,  and,  if  I  take  a  notion,  for  a  week,  I 
shall  be  a  white  man — so  far  as  monev  can  make  me 


A  Mystery.  127 

one.  Then  I  shall  go  into  the  woods  again,  and  try 
to  forget  all  this." 

Si  Totten  seemed  dazed  by  what  he  had  heard.  The 
silence  became  so  great  that  Herbert  Hammerswell 
almost  feared  they  would  hear  his  suppressed  breath- 
ing. 

"And  who  was  this  handsome  girl  ?"  Totten  asked. 
"This  girl  that  looked  at  you  in  a  way  to  make  you 
think  that  she  loved  ye?  You've  never  seen  her 
sence?" 

"No,  I've  never  seen  her  since.  I  don't  want  to  see 
her.  Her  name  was  Inza  Burrage  1" 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  EAVESDROPPER   EXPOSED. 

"You've  had  a  talk  with  Merriwell,  I  s'pose?"  Tot- 
ten  went  on. 

"No;  I've  kept  away  from  him.  I  heard  that  he 
was  inquiring  for  me.  The  fellow  who  told  me 
thought  Merriwell  wanted  to  have  a  talk  with  me  about 
Romine,  but  I  knew  better.  So  I  have  kept  away." 

"Sing'lar  thing  about  Romine,"  said  Totten.  "Well 
and  hearty  yisterday.  Dead  as  a  nail  to-day.  Must 
have  been  murdered!  What's  become  of  the  body? 
Frum  the  story  that  dude  told  he  was  deader'n  a  nail. 
But  dudes  don't  know  much !" 

"If  I  could  find  the  one  who  struck  Romine  down !" 

This  was  from  John  Swiftwing,  and  was  said  in  a 
terrible  way.  Hammerswell's  heart  leaped  with  pleas- 
ure when  he  heard  it,  yet  there  was  such  fierceness  in 
it  that  he  also  shivered. 

"Romine  and  I  have  tramped  the  hills  together,  as 
well  as  you  have,"  said  Totten. 

"I'm  not  through  with  this  thing  yet!"  the  Indian 
declared.  "If  Romine  was  murdered,  I'm  going  to 
find  his  murderer." 

Hammerswell's  heart  again  glowed  with  delight 


The  Eavesdropper  Exposed.         129 

"Oh,  I've  put  together  some  evidence  for  you,  red- 
skin!" was  his  exultant  thought. 

For  the  moment  he  almost  forgot  that  he  was  hi- 
ding in  that  corner,  in  deadly  fear  of  discovery.  Tha 
next  words  brought  the  thought  back : 

"That  dude,  as  you  call  him,  lied!  I  don't  under- 
stand the  thing,  Totten,  but  I  know  that  much.  You 
saw  the  blood.  It  was  fresh,  and  that  showed  that 
Romine  had  been  struck  down  there  not  long  before." 

"Dudes  don't  know  much!"  Totten  again  sneered. 
"Perhaps  Romine  jest  dragged  himself  away?" 

"Yes,  he  may  have  dragged  himself  away  and 
dropped  down  somewhere  and  died.  I've  thought  ofi 
that.  Either  that,  or  he  was  dragged  away." 

"Who  would  V  done  it?" 

"That's  what  I  intend  to  find  out !" 

"I've  got  some  evidence  for  you!"  thought  Ham- 
merswell. 

He  had  slightly  shifted  the  coat,  so  that  now  he 
was  able  to  peer  through  a  small  opening  between  the 
body  of  the  coat  and  one  of  the  sleeves.     Suddenly 
his  blood  seeme.d  to  freeze  in  his  veins.     The  eyes  o£ ; 
the  Indian  youth  appeared  to  be  fixed  on  him.     The 
conversation  stopped.     Si  Totten  turned  round  in  his 
chair  and  sent  his  gaze  in  the  same  direction. 

With  a  pantherlike  motion  Swiftwing  rose  from  his 
seat.  For  a  moment  he  stood  staring  at  the  point 
where  Herbert  Hammerswell  was  concealed.  Ham- 


'  130   The  Eavesdropper  Exposed. 

merswell's  brain  was  whirling,  and  he  felt  that  he 
would  fall  to  the  floor  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  stand 
erect.  He  was  sure  that  the  coat  was  swaying  and  that 
his  breathing  could  be  heard.  He  held  his  breath,  and 
his  heart  thumped  so  loudly  that  it  appeared  impossible 
'  that  the  men  in  the  room  could  fail  to  hear  it. 

Swiftwing  stood  thus  but  a  moment,  yet  to  Ham- 
merswell  the  interval  of  agonizing  suspense  was  long. 
Then  the  Indian  took  a  step  forward.  He  walked 
toward  the  corner  where  the  coats  hung.  Hammers- 
well  wanted  to  cry  out  in  horror.  His  little  cowardly 
soul  seemed  shriveling  into  nothingness.  He  could 
hardly  repress  a  shriek.  With  a  springy  leap  the  In- 
dian crossed  the  intervening  space,  caught  the  shield- 
ing coat,  drew  it  aside,  and  revealed  the  white,  scared 
face  of  Herbert  Hammerswell. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  he  hissed,  in  an  awful 
Voice.  "Why  are  you  hiding  there?" 

"The  dude!"  Si  Totten  gasped. 

"What   does   this   mean?"   John    Swiftwing  ques- 
tioned, in  that  dreadful  voice. 
"I—ah— I " 

The  red  guide  caught  Herbert  by  the  collar  and 
jerked  him  out  into  the  room,  then  pushed  him  vio- 
lently toward  a  chair. 

"What  does  this  mean  ?"  he  fiercely  demanded.  "No 
lying !  What  were  you  up  to  ?" 


The  Eavesdropper  Exposed.         131 

"It  was  an  accident!"  Herbert  shiveringly  pleaded. 
"That's  the  truth.  Just  an  accident." 

"How — did — you — accidentally — happen — to — hide 
—there?" 

"I — I — came  into  the  room  thinking  it  was  my — my 
room;  and  th-then  you  c-came  in — and — and  I 
couldn't  get  out;  and  I " 

Swiftwing  glared  at  him  suspiciously. 

"I  think  you're  lying!" 

Hammerswell  was  trying  hard  to  get  back  his  nerve. 

"That's  the  truth!"  he  chattered.  "I  was  startled 
when  I  found  it  wasn't  my — my  room,  and  I  slipped 
in  there.  You  scared  me.  I — I  thought  you  would 
soon  go  out  and " 

"Don't  come  in  here  again !"  threatened  the  young 
Indian. 

Hammerswell  was  edging  toward  the  door. 

"I  won't !"  he  stammered.     "I— I— I " 

He  began  to  feel  that,  after  all,  his  excuse  was  very 
flimsy.  The  door  was  just  before  him. 

"I — I — I — won't !"  he  chattered,  and  dived  through 
the  doorway. 

"D'y'ever?"  gasped  Totten.  "Must  have  come  in 
nere  to  rob  ye!" 

"Hardly!"  said  the  other.  "He  has  more  money 
now  than  he  knows  what  to  do  with." 

"May  have  just  been  an  accident,  then?" 


132         The  Eavesdropper  Exposed. 

"But  I  don't  think  so.  His  whole  manner  told  that 
he  was  lying." 

"What  was  we  sayin'  that  he  could  have  wanted  tc> 
hear?" 

"It  doesn't  seem  likely  that  it  could  have  been  any- 
thing. He  couldn't  have  known  even  that  we  were 
coming  up  to  the  room  together !" 

Herbert  Hammerswell  was  shaking  and  gasping  as 
he  fled  down  the  hall. 

"Heavens!"  he  choked.  "I  never  had  a  closer 
squeak.  That  fellow  looked  as  if  he  wanted  to  murder 
me.  But  if  I  could  arouse  him  against  Merriwell  it 
would  be  just  the  thing.  He  would  simply  be  a  terror 
if  he  turned  against  any  one,  and  I  could  see  that  he 
doesn't  like  Merriwell  even  a  little  bit.  That  was  a 
funny  story  he  told  about  that  girl,  Inza !  I  shall  cul- 
tivate his  acquaintance  if  he'll  let  me,  though  I  feel 
as  if  I  could  never  stand  it  to  look  at  him  again.  If 
he  gets  the  idea  that  Merriwell  killed  Romine !  Phew ! 
wouldn't  he  make  it  hot  for  Merriwell !  Shouldn't  be 
surprised  if  he  killed  him.  Indians  are  awful  things. 
See  how  he  looked  at  me !  Yes,  he'd  kill  him !" 

Toiling  away  in  his  room  in  the  Wabeek,  the  next 
day,  Herbert  Hammerswell  looked  proudly  and  tri- 
umphantly now  and  then  at  some  photographs  over 
which  he  was  working.  They  appeared  to  please  him 
very  much. 


The  Eavesdropper  Exposed.    133 

"A  professional  couldn't  do  it  better!"  he  mentally 
declared.  "That  is  simply  great  work." 

Finally  he  took  up  one  of  the  photographs,  slipped 
it  into  a  pocket  of  his  coat,  and  left  the  room.  His 
room  was  on  the  same  floor  as  that  occupied  by  Dun- 
stan  Kirk,  the  captain  and  manager  of  the  University 
Nine,  and  toward  Kirk's  room  he  hurried.  He  was 
rather  pleased  than  otherwise  when  he  found  that  Kirk 
was  not  alone.  In  the  room  were  Curringer,  the 
pitcher,  and  Gait,  the  catcher  of  the  Wabeek  ball-team, 
which  delighted  in  being  known  as  the  "University 
Nine." 

"I  don't  think  you  fellows  have  any  higher  opinion 
of  Frank  Merriwell  than  I  have,"  said  Hammerswell, 
daintily  seating  himself  in  the  chair  which  Kirk  pointed 
out  to  him.  "If  I  am  right,  you  will  not  be  surprised 
when  I  show  you  this  picture.  I  confess  that  I  am 
afraid  of  the  fellow;  which  will  explain  to  you  why  I 
have  held  this  thing  back.  I  didn't  know — couldn't 
tell,  of  course — whether  I  had  a  film  that  really  showed 
anything  or  not  until  I  developed  it.  And  I  was  afraid 
to  venture  my  unsupported  statement.  Merriwell  has 
such  a  lot  of  heelers  with  him!  That's  all  those  fel- 
lows are !  Simply  his  heelers !" 

Kirk  and  his  companions  looked  somewhat  sur- 
prised, for  they  had  no  idea  what  was  in  the  mind  of 
Hammerswell.  Herbert  tried  to  make  3  furtive  study 
of  their  faces. 


134         The  Eavesdropper  Exposed. 

"This  will  explain  everything!"  he  said,  as  he  held 
out  a  small  photograph.  Kirk  looked  at  it  and  stared 
at  it  in  amazement  Hammerswell  arose  also  and 
looked  at  it.  The  others  gathered  at  Kirk's  side.  Ex- 
clamations of  astonishment  came  from  all  of  them. 

The  photograph  showed  Frank  Merriwell  bending 
over  the  prostrate  and  seemingly  insensible  form  of 
Dan  Romine  and  striking  at  his  head  with  a  club! 

"What  do  you  think  of  it?"  Herbert  triumphantly 
asked. 

"It  seems  impossible  to  believe  it!"  said  Kirk. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  think !"  Curringer  admitted. 
"That's  Merriwell,  sure !" 

"Can't  be  any  doubt  about  that !"  said  Gait. 

"And  he's  pounding  Romine's  head!"  Curringer 
added. 

"Hitting  to  kill !"  declared  Gait. 

"And  it's  a  photograph !"  said  Kirk. 

"You  took  this?"  Curringer  demanded,  turning  to 
Hammerswell. 

"Yes." 

"You  ought  to  have  told  of  it  sooner  I" 

"I  explained  to  you  why  I  didn't !" 

"And  you  saw  it?" 

Herbert  Hammerswell  assumed  a  defiant  look. 

"How  could  I  take  it  without  seeing  it  ?  Of  course, 
1  saw  it.  I  wanted  to  make  sure  that  the  negative 
could  be  developed  before  making  any  charges." 


The  Eavesdropper  Exposed.         135 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?"  asked  Gait. 

"I  shall  have  him  arrested.  Don't  you  think  I  ought 
to?" 

"That's  the  only  thing  to  be  done." 

"If  it  is  done  right  away  it  will  spoil  our  ball-game/* 
said  Curringer.  "Besides,  for  all  of  your  old  picture, 
I  don't  like  to  think  such  a  thing  of  Merriwell." 

"Has  he  accepted  your  challenge?"  Herbert  ques- 
tioned, pretending  not  to  notice  the  real  significance  of 
Curringer's  words. 

He  flushed,  fearing  he  had  said  too  much.  Then  it 
occurred  to  him  that  the  news  of  the  ball-game  was 
probably  all  over  the  hotel,  only  he  had  been  too  much 
interested  in  producing  that  photograph  for  it  to  reach 
him  in  the  ordinary  channels. 

"Yes ;  and  their  team  is  to  meet  ours  this  afternoon 
on  the  ground  by  the  lake/' 

"Oh,  you'll  do  them  up  easily  enough!"  Hammers' 
well  declared. 

"When  is  this  arrest  to  be  made  ?"  Kirk  asked. 

"Well,  come  to  think  of  it,  if  I  get  word  to  the 
sheriff  right  away,  he  will  probably  get  here  some  time 
this  afternoon.  Not  till  after  the  ball-game  probably. 
It's  some  distance.  I  can  telephone  from  here,  but  he 
will  have  to  drive  across  the  country." 

"I  don't  know  whether  our  team  will  want  to  meet 
a  team  whose  captain  and  manager  can  do  such  a  thing 
as  that !"  said  Kirk,  who  seemed  wonderfully  ready  tor 


136    The  Eavesdropper  Exposed. 

believe  Merry  guilty.  "I  never  would  have  thought  it 
of  Merriwell,  though  there  have  been  some  things  re- 
cently to  make  me  dislike  the  fellow.  We  used  to  be 
friends.  It  seems  impossible  now  that  he  could  do  it." 

"Oh,  he  would  do  anything!"  Herbert  asserted.  "I 
know  him  well — altogether  too  well !" 

"I  don't  feel  that  I  want  to  pitch  against  such  a  fel- 
low, either,"  said  Curringer,  beginning  to  waver.  "It 
would  be  like  tarring  my  fingers." 

"Tell  you  what  would  be  great,"  said  Herbert  craft- 
ily. "If  you  fellows  could  just  lay  it  all  over  him  and 
his  crowd  in  the  ball-game,  and  I  could  have  the  sheriff 
come  right  up  on  top  of  that  and  arrest  him  for  this 
affair !  It  would  paralyze  him !" 

There  were  possibilities  in  this  to  appeal  to  any  one's 
dramatic  instincts.  Whatever  they  had  thought  of 
Merriwell  before,  the  photograph  showed  that  he  had 
not  hesitated  to  brutally  strike  an  insensible  and  help- 
less fellow-creature. 

"If  we  refuse  to  meet  them  now,  they  will  simply 
believe  that  we  have  backed  down  through  fear,  for,  of 
course,  we  wouldn't  dare  to  say  anything  about  this 
evidence  until  after  the  arrest." 

Kirk  was  studying  the  picture  as  he  talked. 

"I'm  in  favor  of  going  right  ahead  and  playing1 
them,"  said  Curringer.  "I'd  like  to  go  up  against 
Merriwell  again,  anyway,  in  the  pitcher's  box.  He 
thinks  he  is  the  one  and  only!" 


The  Eavesdropper  Exposed.          137 

"That's  right.  Go  right  ahead  and  play  them,  and 
then  let  the  sheriff  come  in  and  do  his  work.  You'll 
do  them  up  first,  and  the  other  will  come  in  to  knock 
them  out  completely.  They've  been  worshiping  Mer- 
riwell,  and  they'll  find  that  their  golden  image  is  made 
of  clay." 

HammersweH's  face  was  shining  with  the  possibili- 
ties this  offered.  ', 

"I  want  to  meet  Hodge,"  said  Gait,  the  catcher.  "He 
thinks  he  is  great  stuff,  but  I  want  to  prove  to  him  that 
I  can  catch  a  few !" 

"Yes,  that's  what  we'll  do!"  said  Kirk. 

Hammers  well  went  down  from  the  room,  chuckling1 
in  glee.  On  the  piazza  he  met  John  Swiftwing,  who 
had  put  aside  his  woodsman's  clothing  and  was  neatly 
and  becomingly  attired  in  a  summer  outing-suit.  He 
had  just  come  from  a  long  walk  with  Frank  Merriwell, 
which  had  warmed  his  better  impulses  and  taken  somf 
of  the  bitterness  out  of  his  heart. 

"I  want  to  show  you  this  photograph,"  said  Ham- 
merswell.  "Come  out  here  to  the  end  of  the  piazza, 
where  we  will  npt  be  interrupted.  It's  something  you 
will  be  astonished  to  see." 

Swiftwing's  dark  face  became  darker  when  he 
looked  on  that  picture. 

"Where  did  you  get  this  ?"  he  asked. 

"I  took  it  myself." 


Something  in  the  tone  and  manner  made  the  Indian 
youth  give  Hammerswell  a  searching  look. 

"May  I  keep  it?"  John  asked,  after  a  close  scrutiny 
of  the  photograph. 

"No,"  said  Hammerswell,  nervously  and  quickly 
drawing  it  away. 

The  Indian  gave  him  another  searching  look. 

"That  simply  shows  that  Merriwell  beat  Romine  in 
the  head  with  a  club,"  he  said.  "It  doesn't  prove  mur- 
der. Even  your  testimony" — and  he  gave  Hammers- 
well  another  queer  glance — "wouldn't  prove  that.  The 
body  must  be  found.  I  am  going  to  find  that  body !" 

He  turned  and  left  Herbert  shivering  on  the  piazza 
and  disappeared  in  the  direction  of  his  room.  Ten 
minutes  later  Swiftwing  left  the  Wabeek  clothed  in  his 
woodsman's  garb. 


CHAPTER  XIT. 

DUNSTAN    KIRK'S   CONFIDENCE. 

As  Dunstan  Kirk  and  his  men  went  down  to  the 
ball-field  by  the  lakeside  that  afternoon  he  was  proud 
of  the  University  Nine  and  confident  of  their  ability  to 
wipe  up  the  earth  with  MerriweH's  athletic  team. 

Merriwell's  men  were  already  on  the  field,  and  the 
grand  stand  was  filling  with  guests  of  the  hotel  and 
with  people  from  the  surrounding  country.  Numbers 
had  also  come  over  in  carriages  and  stages  from  the 
Twin  Mountain  House  and  from  the  big  hotels  at  Lake 
Karney. 

The  sympathy  of  the  crowd  seemed  to  be  with  tht 
University  men,  and  they  were  greeted  on  their  arrival 
with  enthusiastic  cheering.  Merriwell  smilingly  met 
Kirk  and  held  out  his  hand,  which  Kirk  took  in  a  cold 
way. 

"You  have  a  good  team,"  said  Frank,  looking  ad- 
miringly and  without  envy  at  the  handsome  fellows  of 
the  University  Nine. 

"I  rather  think  you  made  a  big  mistake  in  accepting 
that  challenge,"  said  Kirk.  "But  the  way  you  talked, 
I  felt  that  you  were  really  inviting  a  challenge.'* 

"All  right,"  was  the  quiet  answer,  "if  I've  made  a 


140         Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence. 

mistake,  I'll  take  my  medicine.  But  we  are  going  to 
try  to  win  this  game." 

"I  don't  see  how  you  can.  have  any  confidence  in  the 
crowd  you  have.  They  aren't  ball-players;  that's  the 
trouble." 

"Three  of  us  were  on  the  Yale  nine.  We  have  the 
Yale  battery,  Hodge  and  myself;  and  Browning 
played  first  for  Yale." 

"But  three  men  don't  constitute  a  nine!" 

All  the  time  Kirk  was  feeling  that  he  was  lowering 
himself  by  talking  to  a  man  who  was  to  be  arrested 
soon  on  the  terrible  charge  of  murder.  He  had  not 
told  this  to  the  members  of  his  team,  but  it  was  known, 
of  course,  to  Gait  and  Wadkins,  whose  feelings  to- 
ward Merriwell  were  like  those  of  their  captain. 

"We  have  nine  men !"  Merriwell  declared. 

"And  I  have  nine  ball-players,  picked  men  from 
leading  colleges.  You  can't  hope  to  beat  them!" 

"It's  a  good  thing  to  be  satisfied  with  your  team, 
Kirk." 

"Then  you  are  not  satisfied  with  your  team  ?" 

"I  didn't  say  that.  Of  course,  I  know  that  not  all  of 
my  men  are  crack  ball-players.  But  you  will  find  that 
they're  not  sticks.  You  may  beat  us." 

"Sure  to!" 

"But  we  shall  try  to  make  you  work  to  do  it.  There 
is  many  a  slip,  you  know,  and  a  game  is  never  won  or 
lost  till  it's  done.  This  one  hasn't  begun  yet  ?" 


Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence.  141 

""Well,  I  want  you  to  make  some  kind  of  a  decent 
showing,"  said  Kirk.  "There  wouldn't  be  anything  in 
it  for  us  if  you  fellows  were  all  lobsters.  Of  course,  I 
know  what  you  can  do,  Merriwell.  If  there  were  nine 
«nen  of  you  who  could  play  as  you  can,  it  would  be  a 
different  thing." 

Kirk's  baseball  instincts  overcame  for  the  moment 
his  suddenly  acquired  prejudice  against  Merriwell.  He 
could  not  forget  nor  overlook  the  fact  that  Frank  Mer- 
riwell was  the  best  all-round  ball-player  and  athlete  ii? 
Yale. 

"It's  really  too  bad,"  he  thought,  as  he  moved  away, 
''that  Merriwell  is  to  be  arrested  on  that  awful  charge, 
even  though  the  evidence  shows  that  he  is  guilty.  He 
must  have  done  the  thing  when  he  was  in  a  great  rage. 
The  fellow  insulted  him  in  the  first  place  by  throwing 
that  gum  into  his  eye,  and  afterward  they  have  had 
words  in  the  woods,  and  Merriwell  in  his  anger  has 
simply  done  a  thing  that  will  send  him  to  State's 
prison,  if  not  worse.  I  wouldn't  be  in  his  shoes  for  the 
world.  But  it's  too  bad.  He  really  is  the  best  ball- 
player ever  in  Yale.  If  his  men  could  approach  him 
we  wouldn't  be"  able  to  beat  them,  probably,  though 
my  men  are  all  of  the  best.  But  with  the  mob  which 
he  calls  his  nine,  he  hasn't  a  ghost  of  a  chance." 

"What  was  Kirk  talking  about?"  asked  Bart,  who 
had  come  up  and  was  speaking  with  Frank  after 
Kirk's  departure. 


142          Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence. 

"Oh,  he  thinks  we  aren't  in  it  He  admits  that  you 
and  I  and  Bruce  can  play  ball,  but  he  just  laughs  at  the 
rest  of  our  fellows." 

"I  wish,  myself,  that  Diamond  were  here!"  said 
Hodge. 

"Yes,  it  is  too  bad  that  he  had  to  go  home  and 
oouldn't  be  with  us  this  trip.  Diamond  is  a  fine  fel- 
low. But  he  isn't  here." 

"I  don't  doubt  about  Carker !"  Hodge  dubiously  ad- 
mitted. "He  always  looks  so  bored  about  everything! 
I  saw  him  a  minute  ago,  and  he  looked  as  if  he  were 
simply  dead  of  ennui.  I  don't  know  whether  he  will 
wake  up  or  not." 

"Languidly  thinking  about  the  earthquake  that's 
coming,  I  suppose,"  laughed  Frank. 

"Probably." 

"But  we  are  all  right,  Bart.  Don't  let  it  trouble 
you  a  minute.  Of  course,  we  shall  have  to  fight  if  we 
win,  and  in  any  event  our  margin  of  victory  is  not 
likely  to  be  great.  But  we're  all  right.  We'll  give 
those  fellows  some  work  that  will  surprise  them.  It's 
never  well  to  be  too  confident,  but  our  men  are  not  so 
slow  as  they  look.  They  think  Gamp  can't  play,  but 
Gamp  is  all  right  in  his  place  and  can  fill  it  as  well  as 
any  man  we  could  get." 

"Gamp  is  all  right." 

"And  so  are  the  others,  with  a  couple  of  exceptions, 
probably.  Oh,  we're  all  right,  Bart!" 


Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence.          143 

Before  the  opening  of  the  game  Merriwell  made  it  a 
point  to  have  a  talk  with  each  man  of  his  team  and  to 
encourage  them  all  he  could  with  the  assurance  that 
they  would  be  able  to  do  good  work  and  to  put  up  a 
stiff  game,  even  if  they  were  to  meet  some  of  the  crack 
players  of  the  great  colleges. 

The  crowd  grew  greater  and  greater.  More  car- 
riages and  hacks  arrived,  and  the  grand  stand  and 
grounds  filled  up.  The  news  that  a  great  college  team 
was  to  play  another  team  of  college  men  had  spread 
throughout  the  surrounding  country,  and  the  people 
were  pouring  into  the  grounds  of  the  Wabeek  Hotel 
to  see  it.  The  proprietor  was  pleased,  and  went  round 
rubbing  his  hands  and  chuckling,  for  he  was  anxious 
that  something  should  be  done  to  make  people  forget, 
in  a  measure,  the  terrible  event  of  the  previous  day — 
the  discovery  of  murder  down  on  the  Wabeek  grounds. 

"Lookout!" 

A  little  steamer  had  come  puffing  up  the  lake  with 
a  load  of  passengers  for  the  ball-grounds,  and  when 
just  opposite  the  landing  had  sent  forth  from  its 
whistle  a  piercing  shriek.  A  team  hitched  to  a  car- 
riage wheeled  short  around  at  this,  half-overturning 
the  vehicle,  and  started  to  dash  across  the  ground. 
Frank  Merriwell  sprang  to  their  heads,  but  was 
knocked  almost  from  his  feet  by  a  young  man  on  a 
bicycle,  who  seemed  trying  to  get  out  of  the  way,  and 
the  next  moment  he  was  under  the  horses'  feet 


144          Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence. 

A  cry  of  alarm  went  up,  for  many  thought  Merri- 
well  would  be  killed.  The  wheels  seemed  to  pass  over 
him.  Then  the  team  raced  on  up  the  slope,  scattering 
terror  and  sending  people  scampering  to  places  of 
safety.  Bart  Hodge  was  at  Merry's  side  almost  in- 
stantly. 

"Hurt,  old  man?"  he  gasped,  lifting  his  friend. 
"Much  hurt?" 

Merriwell  arose  and  -shook  the  dust  from  his  cloth- 
ing. An  excited  crowd  was  gathering.  Hodge  sawi 
that  the  face  of  his  friend  looked  unnaturally  white. 

"You're  hurt !"  he  declared. 

"Might  have  been  hurt,  you  mean?"  and  Frank 
laughed.  "That  was  a  close  call !" 

Hodge  took  his  arm  to  support  him,  and  they 
walked  aside  together,  for  already  the  crowd,  ob- 
serving that  Merriwell  was  not  killed,  was  giving  its 
attention  to  the  runaway. 

"Hammerswell  did  that !"  Bart  hissed.  "I  saw  him 
strike  you  with  his  wheel,  and  he  did  it  purposely." 

"I  saw  it,  too,  but  too  late  to  save  myself." 

"I'll  smash  that  fellow's  face  in,  the  first  chance  I 
get !  The  scoundrel !  To  do  a  thing  like  that !  But 
as  soon  as  I  saw  him  here  I  knew  he  would  do  all  the 
dirt  he  could.  For  a  minute  you  looked  as  white  as  a 
sheet,  and  I  thought  you  were  badly  hurt." 

"Knocked  my  wrist  out !" 

"What?    You  don't  mean  it!" 


Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence. 

"Just  so.  I  don't  know  whether  a  wheel  passed 
over  it  or  I  fell  with  it  twisted.  But  it's  in  bad  shape." 

"And  you  can't  pitch?" 

Hodge's  face  bore  a  terrible  look.  If  he  could  have 
put  his  hands  on  Herbert  Hammerswell  at  that  mo- 
ment he  would  have  given  the  rascal  a  terrible  drub- 
bing. 

"I  c.vVt  pitch  the  double  shoot.    But  I  can  pitch !" 

Merriwell  was  feeling  of  his  injured  right  wrist  and 
moving  it  from  side  to  side. 

"The  pain  is  going  out  of  it,  and  it  is  not  much 
hurt — that  is,  not  seriously  hurt,  I  think.  I  can  pitch. 
I  must  pitch !" 

"Oh,  let  the  old  game  go !    Put  in  somebody  else." 

"Who?" 

"There  isn't  anybody  to  put  in,  that's  a  fact." 

"Except  John  Swiftwing,  and  he  isn't  here.  He  is 
a  football-player,  but  he  can  play  baseball,  too ;  but  he 
isn't  here." 

"Perhaps  he  is  on  the  grounds !" 

"No,  I  heard  some  one  say  that  he  had  left  for  the 
woods.  I'm  sorry  about  that,  too,  for  I  wanted  to 

have  another  talk"  with  him." 

/ 

"The  horses  have  been  stopped.  Nobody  hurt!" 
announced  Danny  Griswold. 

"Except  Merry!"  growled  Hodge.  "His  wrist  is 
knocked  out." 

The  words  were  heard,  and  the  news  that  the  pitcher 


146         Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence. 

of  the  athletic  team  had  been  injured  and  could  not 
pitch  went  traveling  over  the  ball-field.  Several  of 
Merry's  flock  gathered  round  him  and  asked  about  it. 

"I'm  going  to  pitch!"  he  said.  "My  wrist  is  hurt, 
and  it  feels  lame.  I  can't  use  the  double  shoot ;  that's 
all." 

"Then  we're  done  up !"  Browning  groaned. 

"They'll  put  it  all  over  us !"  said  Rattleton. 

"Take  a  brace,  you  fellows !"  Merriwell  commanded. 
"I'm  not  crying,  am  I  ?  We  will  try  to  win  this  game, 
and  we've  a  big  chance  to  do  it,  if  we  try." 

Kirk  and  Curringer,  having  heard  the  story,  came 
over. 

"Knocked  out,  eh?"  said  Kirk. 

"Fm  sorry,  for  a  fact,"  said  Curringer.  "I  wanted 
to  have  another  battle  with  you  in  the  pitcher's  box." 

"Oh,  I  shall  pitch!" 

"But  your  wrist  is  hurt." 

"Not  enough  to  keep  me  from  pitching." 

"Just  a  bluff!"  said  Curringer  to  Kirk,  as  they 
walked  away  together.  "He  is  afraid  I  will  down  him 
in  the  work  to-day,  and  he  will  use  that  for  an  excuse 
*o  explain  his  defeat." 

"His  wrist  didn't  seem  to  be  injured,"  Kirk  ad- 
mitted. "He  may  be  telling  that  to  make  us  think  he 
will  be  easy." 

"Just  an  anchor  to  windward,"  insisted  Curringer. 
"Making  a  soft  spot  to  fall  on,  that's  all !" 


Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence.          147 

After  a  ten  minutes'  brisk  warming-up  practise  for 
each  side,  and  with  the  preliminaries  all  arranged,  the 
game  was  called,  and  the  University  Nine  went  to  the 
bat.  The  excitement  over  the  runaway  was  almost 
forgotten,  and  the  grand  stand  and  grounds  were  filled 
with  an  eager,  talking  throng. 

Merriwell  caught  the  handsome  white  ball  which 
the  umpire  tossed  to  him  and  proceeded  to  rub  it  with 
dirt. 

As  he  glanced  round  to  make  sure  that  his  men  were 
in  their  places,  a  breathless  hush  fell  on  the  spectators. 
Merry  was  in  the  box  and  Hodge  behind  the  bat. 
Browning  was  on  first,  Rattleton  on  second,  and  Jack 
Ready  on  third.  Stubbs  was  short-stop,  and  Danny 
Griswold  was  in  right  field.  In  the  left  field  was  Greg 
Carker,  and  in  center  Joe  Gamp,  the  long-legged  New 
Hampshire  youth. 

Wadkins,  the  University  short-stop,  was  first  at  the 
bat.  He  was  a  small  man,  who  did  not  give  the  im- 
pression that  he  was  a  great  batter,  yet  at  the  first 
swing  he  cracked  out  a  two-base-hit. 

Hodge  groaned.  He  saw  that  Frank  was  not  start- 
ing off  in  his  usual  form.  Gait,  of  Princeton,  the 
University  catcher,  next  went  to  the  bat,  and  two  balls 
were  promptly  called.  Wadkins  was  watching  for  a 
chance  to  steal  third. 

Herbert  Hammerswell,  because  of  his  wealth  and  the 
lavish  way  in  which  he  flung  his  money,  had  a  number 


148         Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence. 

of  admirers  and  pretended  friends  among  the  guests 
of  the  Wabeek,  and  he  had  gathered  some  of  these 
round  him  in  the  grand  stand,  from  which  point  they 
were  viewing  the  game.  Herbert  had  telephoned  the 
sheriff,  and  knew  that  the  latter  was  now  on  his  way 
to  the  Wabeek  to  place  Merriwell  under  arrest,  and  his 
little  soul  was  filled  with  exultation. 

"Three  balls !"  called  the  umpire. 

"Oh,  that  fellow  can't  pitch,  and  he  knows  it !"  Her- 
bert sneered.  "That  story  about  his  injured  wrist  was 
all  a  bluff.  I  understand  that  he  says  I  struck  him 
with  my  bicycle  and  knocked  him  under  the  carriage. 
That's  a  lie.  I  know  the  fellow,  and  you  can't  rely  on 
anything  he  says.  To  hear  him  talk,  you'd  think  him 
the  greatest  pitcher  in  the  country.  But  it's  pure  guff ! 
He  can't  pitch  apples  into  a  barrel !" 

"Four  balls !"  called  the  umpire,  and  Gait  went  trot- 
ting down  to  first.  It  did  seem  that  Herbert  was  right. 

Severing,  of  Harvard,  the  center-fielder,  came  to  the 
bat.  Wadkins,  on  second,  was  still  trying  to  steal 
third,  closely  watched  by  Bart  Hodge.  On  the  second 
pitched  ball,  Wadkins  made  a  dash,  running  like  the 
wind.  But  Hodge  had  his  eye  on  him,  and  with  a 
lightning  throw  sent  the  ball  down  to  third. 

"Slide!"  yelled  the  coach. 

Wadkins  threw  himself  forward  in  a  cloud  of  dust. 

Plunk !  The  ball  struck  in  the  hands  of  Jack  Ready, 
iwho  instantly  touched  the  runner. 


Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence."         149 

"Out,  third !"  said  the  umpire. 

There  was  a  flutter  of  excitement  in  the  grand  stand 
and  some  cheering  over  Hodge's  beautiful  throw  and 
the  prompt  manner  in  which  the  third-baseman  put 
the  ball  on  the  runner. 

Then  Severing  got  a  hit — a  pretty  hit — which  took 
him  to  first  and  took  Gait  from  first  to  third.  Putnam, 
of  Dartmouth,  the  University's  first-baseman,  came  to 
the  bat,  and  on  the  first  pitched  ball  Severing  tried  to 
steal  second,  but  Hodge  promptly  lined  the  ball  to 
Rattleton  and  cut  him  off.  And  Gait  had  stumbled  in 
his  start  from  third,  so  that  he  was  forced  back  by  a 
return  throw  from  Harry. 

Whatever  might  be  thought  of  the  pitching  of  Frank 
Merriwell — and  the  spectators  were  beginning  to  guy 
it — the  University  men  saw  that  they  could  not  steal 
much  on  Hodge. 

Then  Putnam  got  a  hit,  which  brought  Gait  home 
from  third  and  gave  the  University  Nine  a  score. 

"Is  this  the  great  Yale  pitcher?"  Curringer  laughed, 
as  he  stepped  to  the  bat. 

"Oh,  it's  his  ivrist,  you  know !"  said  Lew  Mason,  of 
Brown. 

"Take  him  out  of  the  box.  He  ain't  got  no  license 
to  pitch !"  some  yelled  in  the  crowd. 

"Our  friend  Merriwell  seems  to  be  in  a  hole,"  said 
Kirk,  secretly  delighted  with  the  poor  work  that  Frank 
was  doing.  It  was  poor  work,  and  it  did  not  seem  to 


150          Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence. 

get  better.  Three  balls  were  called  on  him,  and  then 
Curringer  lined  one  down  to  short-stop.  Bink  Stubbs, 
who  seemed  to  have  gone  to  sleep,  suddenly  woke  up 
and  tried  to  get  the  ball.  But  he  simply  fell  on  it,  as  if 
it  were  a  football,  and  by  the  time  he  got  up  with  the 
ball  in  his  hands,  ready  to  throw,  Curringer  was  cm 
first  and  Putnam  on  second. 

"Frank  Merriwell's  athletic  team !"  laughed  Ogle,  a 
Harvard  man.  "This  is  a  great  aggregation !" 

"And  they  say  they  can  play  ball!"  commented 
Mason. 

"Too  easy  to  be  interesting,"  said  Perkins,  who  was 
from  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

Mason  went  to  the  bat  next  and  had  one  strike  ana 
two  balls  called.  The  base-runners  were  not  so  wildlyi 
anxious  to  steal  bases  since  their  experience  with 
Hodge.  Frank  tried  to  pitch  an  in  curve,  which  Mason 
promptly  lined  into  some  scrubby  bushes — and  all 
three  men  came  in,  making  a  total  of  four  scores. 

There  was  some  wild  cheering  from  the  vicinity  oc- 
cupied by  Hammerswell  and  his  friends  and  a  general 
clapping  of  hands.  Merriwell  walked  out  of  the  box, 
after  beckoning  to  Hodge,  and  the  two  met  and  began 
to  talk. 

"Going  to  fix  up  the  switch  so  that  the  signals  won't 
get  crossed  all  the  time !" 

"Tell  the  captain  to  get  a  new  pitcher!" 

"Put  somebody  else  in  the  box!" 


Dunstan  Kirk's  Confidence.          151 

From  various  points  came  guying  cries,  as  Merry 
and  Hodge  consulted,  while  the  members  of  the  ath- 
letic team,  pained  and  humiliated  by  Frank's  evident 
failure,  wondered  what  Merry  and  Hodge  were  talk- 
ing about. 

The  talk  lasted  but  a  few  moments.  Then  Hodge 
went  into  the  pitcher's  box  and  Frank  Merriwell 
walked  behind  the  bat. 

"Batted  him  out  of  the  box !"  said  Curringer,  fling- 
ing up  his  cap. 

And  a  roar  of  triumph  went  up  from  the  throats  of 
the  University  men.  They  continued  to  laugh,  for 
Hodge's  first  was  wild.  Perkins,  who  was  at  the  bat, 
connected  with  the  next  one,  but  sent  up  a  terrifically 
high  foul.  It  did  not  seem  possible  that  Merriwell  could 
get  under  it,  though  he  was  making  a  desperate  run. 
But  he  did  get  under  it,  gathered  it  in,  and  retired  the 
side. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FRANK     ARRESTED. 

The  University  men  went  into  the  field  hilarious, 
feeling  that  they  had  a  snap.  Curringer,  in  the  pitch- 
er's box,  was  jubilant.  He  fancied  the  game  was  al- 
ready won.  With  this  jubilant  feeling,  he  planted  his 
toe  on  the  plate  and  sent  in  the  first  ball. 

"One  ball !"  called  the  umpire. 

Curringer  pulled  himself  together  with  a  jerk,  and 
proceeded  to  strike  out  Ready,  who  was  first  at  the  bat. 

Gamp  came  next,  and  after  one  strike  had  been 
called  on  him  he  drove  a  swift  one  into  the  hands  of 
Wadkins,  the  short-stop,  who  held  it.  Then  Curringer 
struck  out  Browning,  and  the  side  was  retired  without 
even  having  seen  first  base.  The  University  men  were 
howling. 

"Don't  you  wish  you  had  a  pitcher  like  that?" 
squalled  Perkins.  "That's  the  way  we  do  the  busi- 
ness." 

"Oh,  we  won't  let  any  of  Merriwell's  hinky-dinky 
players  see  first !"  yelled  Gait. 

Merriwell  now  went  back  into  the  pitcher's  box, 
and  Hodge  took  his  old  place  as  catcher. 

"Yes,  we've  got  'em!"  thought  Kirk,  who  was  the 
first  man  up  in  that  inning.  "Those  other  fellows 


Frank  Arrested.  153 

have  toyed  with  Merriwell,  and  I'll  raise  thunder  with 
him,  sure!" 

Kirk  was  accounted  a  certain  hitter.  He  felt  con- 
fident that  he  could  handle  Merriwell  as  he  pleased. 
The  first  was  a  ball,  and  he  did  not  swing  at  it. 

Then,  with  bewildering  swiftness,  and  in  a  manner 
to  make  Kirk's  head  swim,  Merriwell  struck  him  out 

Kirk  almost  gasped  as  he  turned  about: 

"And  he  did  not  use  the  double  shoot!" 

Ogle,  of  Harvard,  was  the  next  man  up,  and  was 
struck  out  with  equal  promptness. 

Danny  and  Bink  began  to  dance.  Gamp's  "Haw- 
haw!"  floated  across  the  field.  Ready  began  to  chirp 
on  third.  Then  came  Wadkins,  the  head  of  the  bat- 
ting-list, and  he  went  out  the  same  way,  and  Merri- 
well's  team  came  in  from  the  field  yelling. 

"Oh,  don't  you  wish  you  had  a  pitcher  like  that?" 
Rattleton  retorted,  grinning  into  Perkins'  face.  "Cur- 
ringer  never  saw  the  day  that  he  could  pitch  with  Mer- 
riwell when  Frank  is  all  right !" 

Greg  Carker,  who  usually  wore  a  bored,  tired  feel- 
ing, even  in  times  of  excitement,  came  to  the  bat  ac- 
tually smiling,  and  after  two  strikes  and  one  ball  had 
been  called  he  got  a  beautiful  three-base  hit  off  Cur- 
ringer,  which  made  the  University  pitcher  growl  like  a 
bear. 

"How  about  none  of  Merriwell's  men  getting  to  sec 


154  Frank  Arrested. 

first  base?"  shrieked  Danny  Griswold,  as  he  pranced 
to  the  bat. 

"Carker,  you're  a  lulu!"  shouted  "Sink. 

"Nobody  will  do  that  again,"  thought  Curringer,  as 
he  faced  the  batter,  and  it  seemed  that  he  might  be  able 
to  make  good  this  mental  boast,  for  two  strikes  and 
one  ball  were  called  on  Danny.  Then  Danny  got  one 
that  suited  him,  and,  to  the  astonishment  even  of  his 
friends,  he  hit  a  safe  long  fly  that  was  apparently  out 
of  the  reach  of  the  center-fielder. 

Jack  Ready,  who  was  coaching,  sent  Carker  from 
third  for  home,  feeling  sure  that  the  center-fielder 
could  not  get  the  ball.  But  Severing,  the  fielder,  one 
of  Harvard's  best  men,  made  a  wonderful  run  and  a 
splendid  catch,  and  quickly  sent  the  ball  to  Wadkins, 
the  short-stop,  who  was  playing  back  a  little.  W?«d- 
kins  lined  it  to  third  before  Carker  could  get  back. 

Carker  was  out  and  Griswold  was  out.  A  storm  of 
applause  came  from  the  grand  stand  and  the  field. 
This  was  pretty  playing,  and  the  crowd  appreciated  it. 

"Oh,  we'll  do  'em  up!"  thought  Curringer,  smiling 
his  relief. 

He  seemed  to  get  right  into  gear  after  this,  and 
struck  out  Rattleton  so  swiftly  that  Rattles  felt  dazed. 

There  was  some  exceptionally  fine  playing  after  that 
by  both  teams  for  a  number  of  innings,  but  without 
changing  the  result.  Merriwell's  wrist  seemed  to  have 
recovered  to  a  great  extent,  and  he  and  Curringer  did 


Frank  Arrested.  155 

some  really  excellent  pitching.  But  neither  side  made" 
a  run,  though  each  got  men  as  far  as  third.  Once  the 
University  team  got  a  man  as  far  as  third,  with  no  men 
out,  but  Merriwell  kept  them  from  scoring.  As  the 
Universities  came  to  the  bat  in  the  beginning  of  the 
eighth  inning  it  surely  seemed  that  they  had  a  cinch, 
and  that  Merriwell's  nine  was  certain  to  lose. 

Herbert  Hammerswell  was  in  high  glee.  Still,  he 
seemed  uneasy,  and  kept  turning  his  eyes  down  the 
stretch  of  yellow  road  visible  from  the  grand  stand. 
Suddenly  his  face  flushed  and  his  eyes  brightened,  A 
man,  whom  he  instinctively  knew  to  be  the  sheriff, 
turned  a  bend  of  the  road  and  trotted  his  horse  toward 
the  ball-grounds. 

"I  only  wish  that  the  game  was  ended  and  these 
fellows  had  them  surely  beaten !  But  they  have  them 
beaten  now.  There  can't  be  any  doubt  of  that.  Now, 
Frank  Merriwell,  my  revenge  has  come !" 

Merriwell  and  Hodge  were  talking,  and  Merriwell 
was  ready  to  go  into  the  pitcher's  box  when  the  sheriff 
dismounted,  asked  some  questions  and  came  walking 
across  the  diamond.  Merriwell  paid  no  heed  and 
lifted  his  arm  to  send  in  the  ball.  He  was  stopped  by 
the  sheriff's  words : 

"Frank  Merriwell,  I  arrest  you  for  the  murder  of 
BenRomine!" 

Frank  was  never  more  surprised  in  his  life.  And 
the  surprise  extended  to  nearly  all  within  hearing.  A 


156  Frank  Arrested 

crowd  surged  toward  the  sheriff  and  his  prisoner.  The 
people  in  the  grand  stand  began  to  stir. 

"I  don't  understand  this  I"  Frank  declared,  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"For  the  murder  of  Ben  Romine!"  the  sheriff  re- 
peated, taking  out  a  legal-looking  document.  "Ben 
Romine  1" 

"Is  here!" 

The  sheriff  turned  round.  Before  him  was  Ben 
Romine,  whom  he  knew  well,  accompanied  by  John 
Swiftwing.  The  sheriff  retreated  a  step,  and  there 
was  a  general  shrinking  back,  as  if  the  beholders 
fancied  they  saw  a  spirit. 

"Never  was  murdered  at  all !"  said  Romine.  "A  deaa 
limb  fell  from  a  tree,  knocked  me  on  the  head  and 
about  killed  me,  but  that  fellow  never  had  nothing  to 
do  with  it !" 

Herbert  Hammerswell  was  getting  out  of  the  granct 
stand,  with  shaky  limbs  and  white  face. 

"I  come  to  and  went  away.  I  had  reasons — that  is, 
business  took  me  away;  and  I  come  back,  because 
Swiftwing  said  I  must  help  this  feller,  who  was  about 
to  be  'rested  for  killin'  me !  And  that's  all !" 

"Where  is  the  young  feller  who  brought  the  charge 
against  this  man?"  the  sheriff  asked.  "He  had  a 
photograph  which  he  said  proved  it.  I'd  like  to  see 
him." 

But  Herbert  Hammerswell  could  not  be  found. 


Frank  Arrested.  157 

"Play  ball !"  said  the  umpire. 

The  sheriff  was  looking  for  Herbert  Hammerswell, 
and  the  excitement  on  the  grounds  was  subsiding. 
Merriwell  was  again  in  the  pitcher's  box,  apparently 
as  calm  as  if  nothing  had  happened. 

The  time  which  had  elapsed  since  the  injury  to  hi:> 
wrist  was  now  in  Merriwell's  favor.  The  wrist  was 
not  as  good  as  it  ought  to  have  been  for  him  to  do  his 
best  work,  but  he  believed  he  could  now  use  the  double 
shoot,  and  more  than  ordinary  work  seemed  needed 
if  his  athletic  team  was  to  defeat  the  boastful  Uni- 
versity. He  signaled  Hodge  that  he  would  use  the 
double  shoot,  and  then  showed  something  of  how  he 
could  pitch  when  in  condition  by  striking  out  two  men. 

"Haw-haw !"  came  Gamp's  laugh  from  far  down  in 
the  center  field.  The  third  man  got  a  hit — and  batted 
the  ball  straight  into  Frank's  hands.  The  side  was 
out! 

Again  the  men  came  in  from  the  field,  yelling  ana 
wildly  enthusiastic.  The  recent  attempt  to  arrest 
Frank  had  thrown  them  into  a  fever  of  excitement. 
They  were  ready  to  stand  up  for  him,  to  talk  for  him, 
and  to  fight  for  him.  Now  they  would  have  taken  him 
on  their  shoulders  and  joined  in  a  triumphal  proces- 
sion. 

"The  game  isn't  won,  fellows !"  was  all  he  said,  as 
they  gathered  to  congratulate  him. 

This  was  true,  for,  with  the  exception  of  this  natural 


158  Frank  Arrested 

feeling  in  favor  of  Merriwell,  there  was  as  yet  nothing1 
on  which  to  build  hope  that  the  athletic  team  could 
win  the  game.  Nor  did  Gamp's  work  help  it,  for 
Gamp,  who  came  first  to  the  bat,  was  struck  out.  It 
really  began  to  look  like  the  same  old  thing ! 

Browning  got  a  safe  hit.  Carker  came  next,  and 
Carker  had  been  slashing  at  everything.  But  now 
Merriwell  had  warned  him  to  wait,  take  everything  he 
could,  and  so  try  to  get  his  base  on  balls. 

Carker  proved  a  good  waiter,  after  being  thus  ad- 
monished. The  bored  feeling  never  left  his  face,  nor 
was  there  any  sign  of  exultation  as  ball  after  ball  was 
called.  Nor  was  he  at  all  hilarious  when  the  umpire 
called  "Four  balls !"  and  he  went  to  first. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  Danny  had  knocked  a  ball 
into  center  field,  Curringer  regarded  Griswold  as 
"easy,"  and  the  little  fellow  was  next  at  the  bat.  That 
had  been  something  of  an  accident,  and  Curringer 
knew  it. 

"Right  there!"  Danny  chirped,  putting  up  his  bai. 
"Give  me  one  right  there,  and  I'll  knock  the  cover  off 
it!" 

The  ball  did  not  come  "right  there,"  but,  to  the 
astonishment  of  himself  and  everybody,  Danny 
smashed  it  in  great  shape,  getting  a  three-base  hit, 
bringing  in  both  Browning  and  Carker  and  putting 
himself  on  third. 

Rattleton  was  next,  and  he  came  up  nervous  and 


Frank  Arrested.  159 

excited.  He  fancied  that  things  were  coming  Merri- 
well's  way  again.  He  was  too  excited,  and  as  a  result 
Curringer  fanned  him  out. 

Gait,  the  catcher,  after  this  strike-out,  threw  the  ball 
down  to  Curringer.  Curringer  rather  carelessly  stuck 
out  his  hand  to  catch  it.  It  struck  his  hand,  and 
bounded  off  to  one  side,  in  the  diamond.  Danny  Gris- 
wold,  who  had  been  crazy  for  a  "steal,"  went  for  home 
like  a  shot.  Curringer  jumped  for  the  ball,  got  it, 
and  threw  it  for  home. 

"Slide!"  yelled  the  coacher,  and  Danny  slid  home 
in  a  cloud  of  dust,  bringing  in  the  third  tally  for  Mf;r- 
riwell  and  sending  the  hearts  of  Kirk's  men  into  their 
mouths. 

Bink  Stubbs  pranced  up  to  the  bat. 

"Watch  me!"  he  called.  "No  little  red-headed  runt 
can  do  better  than  me !  I'll  make  a  home  run !" 

He  threw  back  his  chest,  swung  at  the  balls,  and 
fanned  out.  Merry's  side  was  retired  when  only  one 
score  was  needed  to  tie  the  game. 

"A  home  run/'  snorted  Danny.  "Better  run  home 
to  your  mother!  I'm  the  only  real  thing,  with  my 
signature  blown  in  the  bottle !" 

The  excitement  climbed  up  to  fever  pitch  among  the 
spectators  as  the  University  Nine  came  to  the  bat  in 
\  he  first  half  of  the  ninth  inning.  The  University  men 
now  had  scored  four  runs,  which  they  had  not  in- 


l6o  Frank  Arrested. 

creased  since  the  first  inning,  while  Merriwell's  tean? 
had  made  three. 

Hodge  did  not  want  Frank  to  make  further  use  or 
the  double  shoot,  fearing  it  would  injure  his  wrist,  but 
Frank  believed  he  could  safely  use  it  still  to  a  limited 
extent,  and  he  was  determined  to  hold  down  the  Uni- 
versities now  if  it  lay  in  his  power. 

He  never  pitched  better.  He  had  a  beautiful  de- 
livery, without  many  fancy  flourishes,  but  every  move 
counted,  and  three  men  fruitlessly  punctured  the  at- 
mosphere, and  the  side  was  retired. 

Hodge  was  the  first  man  up  in  the  last  half  of  the 
ninth  inning,  and  in  spite  of  Curringer's  desperate  ef- 
fort to  duplicate  Merriwell's  performance  Bart  got  a 
safe  hit. 

Merriwell  was  next  at  the  bat,  and  Curringer 
pulled  himself  together  for  his  best  work,  resolved  to 
strike  Frank  out  But  Frank  was  cautious.  He 
seemed  to  be  waiting  for  the  kind  of  ball  he  liked. 
Two  strikes  were  called  on  him  and  two  balls.  Then, 
as  Merriwell  lifted  the  bat4  an  unseen  rifle  cracked  in 
the  woods,  and  the  bat  fell  from  his  numbed  fingers, 
\vhile  he  staggered  backward  as  if  about  to  fall.  The 
bat  had  been  hit  by  a  bullet. 

Men  poured  from  the  grounds,  racing  toward  the 
point  where  the  shot  had  sounded,  while  women 
screamed,  and  some  of  them  fainted.  Everything  was 
in  a  tumult.  Hodge  and  Browning  and  others  leaped 


Frank  Arrested.  161 

to  Frank's  side,  and  their  joy  was  great  when  they 
knew  that  Merry  had  not  been  touched  at  all. 

"Hammerswell  did  that !"  said  Hodge.  "He  wanted 
to  kill  you,  because  his  scheme  to  have  you  arrested 
for  murder  failed.  I  feel  sure  of  it!" 

No  one  was  found  in  the  woods,  which  was  not 
strange,  as  the  woods  extended  along  the  lake  for  a 
considerable  distance  and  back  toward  the  mountains, 
furnishing  many  hiding-places.  The  woods  also  came 
up  to  the  hotel  on  one  side. 

While  the  excitement  was  still  at  its  height,  Herbert 
Hammerswell  coolly  sauntered  upon  the  ground  and 
asked  what  the  "row"  was  about.  He  had  come  from 
the  hotel.  But  cool  as  he  seemed  to  be,  he  slipped 
away  again  when  he  saw  Hodge  and  Merriwell  look- 
ing toward  him,  as  he  fancied,  hurrying  back  to  his 
room. 

"Will  we  never  get  this  game  played?"  said  Rattle* 
ton. 

"We'll  never  get  along  with  anything  while  that 
scoundrel  is  here !"  growled  Hodge. 

Merriwell  said  nothing.  He  was  thinking.  He  be- 
lieved in  thinking  before  acting. 

Again  the  nines  took  their  positions,  somewhat 
wildly  wondering  what  would  happen  next.  No  one, 
except  some  of  Frank's  friends,  harbored  the  thought 
that  a  deliberate  attempt  had  been  made  to  assassinate 


Frank  Arrested. 

him,  the  general  belief  being  that  some  one  in  the 
woods  had  fired  a  shot  at  some  small  animal  or  at  a 
target,  and  that  the  shot  had  been  incautiously  directed 
toward  the  diamond.  The  supposition  was  that  the 
rifleman,  discovering  this,  had  fled  in  fear. 

Many  of  the  ladies  and  a  few  of  the  men  left  the 
grounds.  They  did  not  care  to  be  longer  in  the  range 
of  possible  bullets  which  some  reckless  hunter  was 
oeppering  away  at  small  game  in  the  timber. 

Nevertheless,  the  teams  had  reentered  the  field  ana 
proposed  to  finish  the  game.  Curringer  seemed  cool 
enough,  and  he  resolved  that  he  would  strike  Frank 
out.  Two  strikes  had  been  called  and  two  balls. 

But  Curringer  was  counting  without  his  host.  The 
next  pitched  ball  Frank  hit  with  terrific  force.  It  flew 
high  above  the  diamond,  and  on,  and  on. 

"Into  the  lake!"  was  yelled.  "It's  gone  into  the 
lake!" 

Not  since  there  had  been  a  diamond  at  Wabeek  had 
such  a  thing  occurred. 

Gamp's  "Haw-haw !"  rose  in  a  mighty  outburst. 

"Gug-gug-get  a  bub-bub-bub-boat  and  gug-go  fish- 
ing for  it !"  he  howled. 

"Hooray!"  Rattleton  was  screeching,  as  Merriwell 
flew  along  the  lines  of  the  bases.  "Come  home, 
Frank!" 

"Yee-e-e !"  squealed  Bink,  throwing  his  cap  into  the 
air.  "Oh,  we're  dead  easy!  Wee-e-e!" 


Frank  Arrested. 

Frank's  hit  was  a  home  run,  and  it  brought  in 
Hodge,  making  a  total  of  five  scores. 
It  won  the  game! 


Herbert  Hammerswell  could  not  be  found  at  the 
Wabeek,  though  he  had  momentarily  shown  himself 
on  the  ball-grounds,  to  prove  that  he  could  not  have 
done  the  shooting.  The  rifle  with  which  he  fired  the 
shot  he  carried  away  with  him  and  threw  into  the 
lake,  with  the  cartridges  that  belonged  to  it.  He  also 
demolished  and  threw  into  the  lake  the  negatives  from 
which  he  had  made  the  photograph,  and  destroyed  the 
phptograph. 

He  felt  that  this  was  the  only  safe  course.  He  had 
made  the  photograph  from  two  others — one  the  picture 
of  Ben  Romine  lying  insensible  in  the  path,  the  other 
a  snap-shot  he  had  obtained  of  Frank  Merriwell  pound- 
ing the  head  of  a  snake  with  a  club.  By  cleverly 
uniting  these  and  getting  a  negative  from  them  a  new 
photograph  was  produced,  which  showed  Merriwell 
striking  Romine*  instead  of  the  snake.  On  his  second 
visit  to  the  spot  where  Romine  was  felled,  Herbert  had 
observed  and  carried  away  the  broken  clublike  bough 
which  struck  Romine  down. 

As  for  Romine's  mysterious  disappearance,  when 
he  saw  Frank  at  the  station,  he  wildly  fancied  that 


1 64  Frank  Arrested. 

Frank  was  a  detective  come  to  arrest  him  for  some 
evil  deed  done  in  New  Haven.  Romine  had  lived  a 
crooked  life  in  the  famous  college  town,  and  once, 
when  dodging  the  police  and  in  terror  of  arrest,  he 
had  seen  Frank  talking  with  Selton  Dirk,  the  detect- 
tive.  Hence  his  natural  inference  that  Frank  was  a 
detective. 

Swiftwing's  keen  eyes  and  the  answers  given  by 
Hammerswell  had  led  him  into  the  belief  that  the 
photograph  shown  him  by  Herbert  had  been  "fixed." 
If  this  were  true  and  Romine  not  dead,  he  fancied  that 
Romine  might  be  found  at  a  certain  camp  in  the  woods. 
He  found  Romine  there,  and  by  assuring  him  that 
Frank  was  not  a  detective,  but  greatly  in  need  to  be 
saved  from  unjust  arrest,  he  induced  the  woodsman  to 
return  with  him  to  the  Wabeek. 

Having  destroyed  the  evidence  of  his  guilt,  Ham- 
merswell's  plan  was  to  keep  away  from  the  hotel  for  aj 
short  time  and  profess  on  his  return  that  he  had  been 
on  a  camping-trip. 

"And  I'll  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  sheriff!"  he 
muttered,  looking  into  the  lake  where  the  articles  had 
been  cast.  "There  is  no  evidence  against  me  that  can 
seriously  harm  me — not  a  thing;  and  I'm  safe.  I 
failed  in  this,  but  I'll  come  back  at  Merriwell  again. 
If  he  thinks  he  is  rid  of  Herbert  Hammerswell  he  is 
mistaken.  Even  if  he  should  have  me  arrested  now, 
what  could  he  do?  Not  a  thing.  And  I've  got 


Frank  Arrested.  165 

enough  money  to  hire  lawyers  and  buy  up  judges  and 
juries,  if  necessary!" 
And  so  he  believed. 


After  the  ball-game  Merriwell  met  John  Swiftwing 
on  the  hotel  piazza. 

"You  are  a  noble  fellow,  Swiftwing !"  he  said,  when 
he  had  heard  the  story  of  the  Indian  youth.  "We 
want  you  to  go  with  us  on  this  summer  trip.  You 
are  a  good  pitcher,  and  the  work  to-day  shows  that  we 
should  have  another  pitcher.  Will  you  go?" 

Swiftwing's  dark  face  brightened.  It  seemed  good, 
after  all,  to  be  again  spoken  to  in  this  way.  He 
thought  a  moment,  then  returned  Merriwell's  honest 
hand-pressure. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  will  go  »»* 


CHAPTER  XIW 

IN  THE  WOODS- 

"Light  is  the  breeze  in  the  tree-tops  astir, 
Fragrant  the  breath  of  the  hemlock  and  fir, 
Bright  is  the  sky  as  the  eyes  that  we  love, 
Swetter  the  brook-song  than  note  of  the  dove-** 

Deep  in  the  woods, 

Deep  in  the  woods." 

A  group  of  youths  were  sitting  in  front  of  a  big 
wall  tent,  which  had  been  pitched  under  the  shade  of 
some  trees  on  the  shore  of  a  beautiful  lake  in  the 
heart  of  the  Great  North  Woods.  Behind  them  rose  a 
spur  of  the  blue  Adirondacks,  visible  through  an  open- 
ing in  the  trees.  In  front,  the  lake  rippled  on  a  rocky 
shore.  Farther  out  its  waters  ran  in  heavier  waves, 
and  beyond  these,  and  far  enough  away  to  be  misty 
and  romantic,  rose  timbered  islands  and  mountainous 
woodlands.  Here  and  there  the  white  cottages  of 
summer  residents  peeped  at  the  lake  through  green 
vistas,  like  coy  maidens  trying  to  behold  their  mirrored 
beauty  in  the  crystal  depths. 

The  words  of  the  song,  sung  by  Frank  Merriwell, 
Jack  Ready,  and  Greg  Carker,  whose  voices  blended 
harmoniously,  floated  softly  and  sweetly  out  over  the 
lake. 

"Fellows,  this  is  what  I  call  comfort!"  said  Brucft 
Browning,  who  was  reclining  lazily,  with  his  back 


In  the  Woods.  167 

against  a  tree,  pulling  reflectively  at  his  pipe.  "I 
don't  think  I  shall  ever  want  to  go  back  to  Yale. 
What's  the  use?  I  can't  ever  get  my  sheepskin,  any- 
way." 

"You'd  get  it,  all  right,  if  you'd  study  for  it,"  said 
Carker. 

"Too  hard  work  to  study,"  Bruce  grumbled,  shift- 
uig  into  an  easier  position.  "What's  the  use?" 

Merriwell  laughed. 

"I  feel  about  as  indolent  as  Browning.  The  drowsi- 
ness and  laziness  of  the  woods  get  into  one's  blood. 
tThis  morning  I  don't  want  to  do  anything  but  sit  here." 

"And  sing,"  said  Ready.  "Tune  'er  up  again!  I 
don't  want  to  do  anything  but  twang  my  lyre." 

"Enough  to  make  a  seagull  sing,"  grunted  Bruce. 

"Why  don't  you  sing,  then?" 

"Oh,  I'm  not  a  seagull." 

"I  saw  a  fellow  twang  your  lyre,  once,"  declared 
Bink  Stubbs,  speaking  to  Ready. 

"How  was  that?" 

"He  said,  'You're  a  liar !'  and  then  he  hit  you." 

"You're  another!"  Ready  flung  back.  "Tune  'er 
up  again !  'Deep  in  the  woods !  Deep  in  the  woods !'  " 

"Bowers  of  beauty  and  vistas  so  fair; 
Far,  far  behind  us  each  sorrow  and  care! 
Lighter  our  thoughts  than  the  branches  that  swing, 
Joyous  our  hearts  as  the  birds  on  the  wing — 

Deep  in  the  woods, 

Deep  in  the  woods." 


168  In  the  Woods. 

"It  dud-dud-don't  always  mum-make  a  feller  feel 
happy  to  bub-bub-be  deep  in  the  woods,"  said  Gamp, 
with  a  mournfully  reminiscent  note  in  his  voice.  "Sus- 
sometimes  it's  worse  than  bub-being  dud-dud-deep  in 
debt." 

"Couldn't  be  worse  than  that,"  chirped  Read^. 
"I've  had  harrowing  experiences  with  my  dear,  old 
uncle.  And  last  term  Morey  came  near  publicly  wri- 
ting my  name  up  on  his  black  list.  That  almost  curled 
my  hair." 

"Went  bub-bub-blue  berrying  one  sus-summer, 
Gamp  continued,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  this.  "Gug* 
got  lost  in  the  woods  and  stayed  out  tut-tut-two  nights. 
Sus-second  night  out  I  fuf-fell  in  with  a  cuc-cuc-cuc- 
crazy  feller,  who  thought  he  was  the  gug-gug-gug- 
grandfather  of  an  Old  Town  Indian,  and  he  tut-tut- 
tut-tried  to  scu-scalp  me!  Mum-mum-my  hair  cue- 
curled!" 

Danny  Griswold  "turned  his  lyre"  and  began  to 
sing: 

"Bored  by  mosquitoes  and  bitten  by  fleas, 
Sitting  in  ant-beds  while  taking  our  ease; 
Snakes  for  our  playmates  and  gnats  for  our  fare-* 
Tell  me,  oh,  tell  me!  who  wouldn't  be  there? 

Deep  in  the  woods, 

Deep  in  the  woods." 

Gregory  Carker  glanced  uneasily  around. 
"Do  you  suppose  there  are  any  snakes  here?"  he 
anxiously  asked. 


In  the  Woods.  169 

"Never  an  Eden  without  a  snake,'*  said  Bart  Hodge. 

"The  snake  of  this  Eden  is  Herbert  Hammerswell," 
declared  Harry  Rattleton. 

"Oh,  he's  cut  out,"  said  Bink. 

"As  they  said  about  the  fellow  when  another  man 
took  his  best  girl  from  him,"  added  Danny. 

"I'll  believe  it  when  I  know  it,"  Bart  grumbled. 
"That  rascal  will  stay  around  here  as  long  as  he  thinks 
he  can  injure  us.  I  know  the  scoundrel." 

Browning  began  to  stir  and  a  look  of  annoyance 
came  into  his  face.  Suddenly  he  hopped  to  his  feet, 
as  if  he  had  never  dreamed  of  being  lazy,  and  began 
to  claw  at  a  leg  of  his  trousers. 

"Talk  about  snakes !    Ants  are  eating  me  up !" 

"Gug-gug-goshf ry !  They're  on  me,  too!"  howled 
Gamp,  beating  at  his  shoulders,  and  then  thrusting  a 
hand  down  the  back  of  his  neck.  Bruce  dropped  on 
his  knees  and  began  a  search  for  the  ant  that  was 
gnawing  at  his  leg,  while  Gamp  proceeded  to  dig  at 
his  neck  and  to  dance  an  awkward  hornpipe.  Danny 
rolled  over  on  his  back  and  laughed  till  the  tears  came 
into  his  eyes. 

"Oh,  it  isn't  so  funny!"  snarled  Bruce. 

Danny's  laughter  came  to  a  sudden  end  when  a  big 
black  spider  that  had  been  trailing  its  web  down  from 
a  tree  dropped  upon  his  nose. 

"Wow!"  he  howled,  leaping  to  his  feet.  "Spiders! 
That's  worse  than  eating  gnats." 


iyo  In  the  Woods. 

Having  expelled  the  ant,  Bruce  found  another  easy 
spot  to  rest  on,  and  again  stretched  out  in  a  lazy  atti- 
tude, humorously  watching  Joe  Gamp,  whose  antics 
still  continued. 

"Let's  bo  goating — I  mean,  let's  go  boating!"  Rat- 
tleton  suggested,  when  Gamp  subsided. 

"What's  the  use?"  Bruce  asked. 

"What's  the  use  of  anything?"  Bart  Hodge  retorted. 

"No  use  at  all,"  said  Browning.  "I'm  happy,  if 
the  ants  will  let  me  alone.  Go  boating  ?  What's  the 
use?" 

Merriwell  laughed. 

"Browning's  philosophy  makes  me  think  of  a  picture 
I  saw  in  a  store  on  Hanover  Street  the  last  time  1 
was  in  Boston.  It  was  a  grinning  skull,  crowned  with 
laurel  leaves,  and  under  it  the  pessimistic  question* 
'What's  the  use?'" 

"Painted  in  a  fit  of  despair  by  some  poor  devil  or 
an  artist,"  suggested  Carker.  "I  don't  wonder.  What 
is  the  use,  anyway?  That's  what  we  come  to  at  last. 
Whether  we  wear  the  laurel  crown  of  fame  or  dig 
dirt  in  the  streets,  that's  what  we  must  come  to." 

"Life  is  its  own  compensation,"  said  Frank.  "To 
win  the  love  of  friends  and  to  stand  by  them,  to  do 
your  best  in  whatever  you  undertake,  and  to  kick  repi- 
ning to  the  dogs — these  are  the  things  that  make  life 
worth  while.  Whoever  does  that  will  not  be  a  cheer- 
less pessimist." 


IrTthe  Woods.  171 

The  warm  sunshine  was  bringing1  out  an  army  of 
ants,  and  they  became  so  pugnacious  and  ravenous  that 
the  little  party  under  the  trees  was  broken  up  and 
scattered,  some  going  down  to  the  edge  of  the  lake. 

"I  deny  that  I'm  a  pessimist,"  said  Carker,  walk- 
ing up  and  down  in  front  of  the  tent — the  larger  tent, 
for  there  were  two.  "It  isn't  pessimistic  to  look  facts 
in  the  face.  Life  is  all  very  well  to  the  man  born  with 
a  gold  spoon  in  his  mouth." 

"Like  yourself,"  suggested  Rattleton. 

"But  to  the  man  who  is  born  poor,  who  works  from 
dawn  to  dark  for  miserable  pay,  who  is  half-fed,  and 
half-clothed,  and  half-starved!  All  this  stuff  about 
equality  and  freedom,  the  inalienable  rights  of  man, 
our  glorious  American  privileges,  and  all  that  is  well 
enough  for  office-hunting  politicians  to  fire  off  as  pyro- 
technics on  the  Fourth  of  July  and  in  political  cam- 
paigns, but  I  don't  see  that  it  does  any  one  else  any 
good." 

He  was  addressing  himself  to  Merriwell.  Bart 
Hodge  was  bending  over  a  camp-fire,  earnestly  study- 
ing the  condition  of  something  that  was  simmering  and 
stewing  in  the  pot  that  was  swung  above  the  fire. 

"I  used  to  go  crazy  about  the  American  flag.'* 

"When  you  were  a  boy  ?"  said  Rattleton. 

"Yes — in  the  dim  long-ago,  when  I  was  a  boy,  and 
didn't  know  any  better.  But  I've  got  over  that.  I'm 
a  patriot,  I  want  you  to  understand.  This  country  is 


172  In  the  Woods. 

treating  me  well.  But  I  don't  see  anything  for  tht 
poor  man  to  enthuse  over." 

Whenever  Greg  Carker  struck  this  string  he  be* 
came  interested  and  even  excited.  At  all  other  times 
his  face  wore  a  bored  expression. 

"There  is  just  as  good  a  chance  for  a  poor  boy  to- 
day as  there  ever  was,"  Frank  asserted.  "Most  of 
the  men  of  the  past  half-century  who  have  made  great 
names  and  fortunes  for  themselves  were  born  poor, 
many  of  them  in  want  and  obscurity  and  without  op- 
portunities. They  made  men  of  themselves  because 
they  had  brains,  ambition,  and  energy." 

"But  conditions  have  changed." 

"Conditions  have  somewhat  changed.  But  men 
have  not  changed — human  nature  has  not  changed. 
The  opportunity  for  the  poor  boy  is  as  great  to-day 
as  it  has  ever  been ;  and  the  men  who  will  be  the  men 
of  the  next  half-century  are  in  a  large  measure  the 
boys  who  are  now  poor  and  often  discouraged — the* 
boys  of  the  farm  and  the  streets,  of  the  shops  and  the 
stores.  The  poor  boys  who  are  honest  and  true.  The 
poor  boys  who  want  to  be  somebody  in  the  world,  and 
are  determined  that  in  spite  of  their  conditions  they 
will." 

"You  ought  to  take  the  stump  in  behalf  of  the  down- 
trodden and  impoverished,"  said  Carker.  "That  is 
quite  like  a  Fourth  of  July  oration." 

"It  is  truel" 


In  the  Woods. 

Suddenly  Merriwell  and  the  others  began  to  laugh. 
Carker  thought  they  were  laughing  at  him,  and  it 
angered  him.  But  they  were  laughing  because  a  goat 
had  suddenly  walked  from  behind  the  tent  and,  an- 
gered by  Carker's  excited  gestures,  had  thrown  itself 
into  a  pugilistic  attitude. 

"You  fellows  always  laugh  as  if  you  hadn't  any 
brains  in  your  heads!"  Carker  grumbled.  "That's  right 
*— laugh  if  you  want  to!  You  may  laugh  as  much  as 
you  please,  but  the  earthquake  is  coming." 

Truly  it  was.    The  goat  had  lowered  its  head. 

"Yes,  I  think  the  earthquake  is  coming!"  Frank 
admitted,  much  to  Carker's  astonishment. 

"Ba-a-a-a!"  went  the  goat;  and  as  it  did  so,  it 
"lifted"  Carker,  sending  him  rolling  on  the  grass.  He 
grasped  a  club,  as  he  jumped  up  in  a  rage,  and  dashed 
at  the  goat  as  if  he  wanted  to  beat  its  horns  off. 

"Go-at !"  yelled  Rattleton,  as  the  animal  ran  toward 
the  shore,  with  Carker  in  pursuit.  "Go-at,  Carker* 
But  I'll  bet  five  dollars  you  don't  catch  him !" 

"Is  that  Frank  Merriwell  ?  If  it  is,  we'll  help  him 
catch  the  goat."- 

A  half-dozen  boys  had  dropped  down  the  lake  in 
a  boat  from  the  Lake  View  Hotel  and  had  come 
ashore.  They  were  eager,  bright-faced  fellows,  and 
they  looked  earnestly  at  Carker  as  he  vainly  chased 
along. 


174  1°  the  Woods. 

"No,  that's  Keg  Grarker— Greg  Carker.  That's 
Merriwell  with  Hodge." 

Rattleton  pointed  to  Merriwell,  who  was  walking 
toward  the  lake  with  Bart.  The  boys  stared  with 
gasping  breath. 

"That's  Merriwell!"  one  of  them  whispered.  "I 
never  expected  to  see  him.  Greatest  baseball  pitcher 
in  the  world.  Say,  do  you  go  around  with  him  all  the 
time?" 

Rattleton  laughed,  although  he  was  pleased.  It 
was  impossible  for  the  boys  to  admire  Frank  more 
than  he  did. 

"A  good  deal  of  the  time,"  he  answered. 

"Can't  nobody  bat  that  feller  out  of  the  box?"  said 
one  of  the  other  boys.  "Them  Wabeek  fellers  found 
out  a  thing  er  two  t'other  day.  Gee,  wouldn't  I  like 
to  go  around  with  him!  Say,  if  I  was  a  man,  I'd 
oay  a  thousand  dollars  a  day  for  that!" 

He  looked  admiringly  at  Rattleton,  who  seemed  b> 
reason  of  companionship  to  have  received  some  of 
Merriwell's  glory. 

"If  his  wrist  hadn't  been  lame,  wouldn't  one  of 
'em  touched  first  base?"  declared  another.  "Most 
broke  his  wrist  when  the  carriage  run  over  it.  That 
sneak  Hammerswell  done  that." 

"Do  you  know  Hammerswell?"  Harry  inquired. 

"He's  stayin'  at  the  Lake  View  now.  We  fellers 
hate  him,  for  what  he  done  to  Merriweli." 


In  the  Woods.  175 

wAnd  he  called  me  Sonny!"  chirped  another. 

"Don't  any  of  the  people  up  there  like  him,  'ceptin* 
Delancy  Livingston,  and  he's  a  fool." 

"Some  of  'em  says  he  tried  to  shoot  Merriwell,  but 
he  says  he  didn't.  Hammerswell  would  do  most  any- 
thing, though,  I  b'lieve." 

They  followed  Merriwell  down  to  the  shore,  keeping 
at  first  at  a  respectful  distance,  but  drawing  nearer  as 
their  courage  increased. 

"Where  did  you  ever  hear  of  Merriwell?"  Harry 
asked,  as  one  of  them  came  near  him  again.  The  boy 
looked  at  Rattleton  in  amazement. 

"Hear  o'  him?  Why,  there  ain't  a  boy  in  the 
United  States  ain't  heard  of  him !  We've  heard  of  the 
rest  of  you,  too,  but  we  boys  is  swearin'  by  Merriwell. 
Is  he  goin'  to  play  some  more  baseball?" 

"I  don't  know.    I  expect  so." 

"Wish't  he'd  play  the  Wabeeks  again.  I'd  like  to 
see  him  knock  the  spots  out  of  'em.  Didn't  git  to  see 
t'other  game.  Me  an'  Jimmy  was  fishin'  that  day. 
But  if  we'd  knowed  that  Merriwell  was  at  the  Wa- 
beek  playin'  baseball,  all  the  fish  in  the  lake  could  'a* 
died,  for  all  of  us !  Wish't  he'd  play  'em  again." 

"Perhaps  he  will." 

"There  comes  Hammerswell  down  the  lake  with 
Delancy's  sister,"  one  of  them  announced. 

Merriwell's  friends  by  the  lake-shore  had  already 
discovered  that  Herbert  Hammerswell  was  near.  [They 


176  In  the  Woods. 

had  seen  him  come  to  the  boat-house  and  landing  with 
a  very  pretty  girl,  and  get  out  a  sailboat,  which  both 
entered. 

"I  knew  the  scoundrel  hadn't  left,"  Hodge  was 
growling.  "He  will  stay  in  the  neighborhood  as  long 
as  we  do.  I'm  going  to  thump  him  the  first  time  I  get 
near  him." 

"Don't  want  to  soil  my  hands  with  him,"  drawled 
Bruce.  "But  I  feel  that  I'd  like  to  kick  him.  I  didn't 
think  he'd  stay  around  here." 

Frank  and  others  came  up,  and  all  stood  under  some 
trees,  the  boys  crowding  closer  and  listening  with  all 
their  ears. 

"That's  Delancy  Livingston's  sister,"  one  of  them 
volunteered,  proud  to  be  able  to  give  Merriwell  some 
information.  "Hammerswell  is  her  reg'lar.  She's 
goin'  to  marry  him,  I  guess." 

For  the  first  time  Frank  observed  the  admiring 
glances  of  the  boys  and  heard  their  whispered  com- 
ments. He  flushed  like  a  schoolgirl. 

"Who  is  Delancy  Livingston?"  Bruce  asked,  look- 
ing at  the  boat. 

"He's  a  dude  stayin'  at  the  Lake  View." 

"Hammerswell  doesn't  know  how  to  handle  a  boat," 
Hodge  growled.  "The  breeze  is  getting  up,  too.  He'll 
turn  it  over.  She's  a  fool  to  go  sailing  with  such  a 
fellow." 

"He  and  Delancy  are  chums,  you  see,  and  Delancy 


In  the  Woods.  177 

is  her  brother,"  explained  another  boy.  "I  s'pose 
that's  why  she's  sweet  on  him.  She's  goin'  to  marry 
him." 

"I  can't  admire  her  taste,"  said  Greg.  "Screw  loose 
in  her  head  if  she  takes  to  him."  f 

"Sore  of  obliquity  of  mental  vision,"  chirped  Ready. 
"A  bit  color-blind  in  the  intellect." 

"Simply  a  lack  of  sense!"  growled  Bart. 

"Mighty  pretty  girl,"  said  Bink,  folding  his  arms 
and  posing.  "I'd  smile  at  her,  if  she'd  look  this  way." 

The  boat  was  drawing  near,  for  the  landing  was 
not  distant,  and  the  boat  was  coming  straight  dowr 
the  shore. 

"She'd  be  a  fool  if  she  looked  at  you,"  Danny  de- 
clared. "If  she  wants  to  see  something  sweet,  le* 
her  cast  her  admiring  glances  hitherward!" 

"Something  soft,  you  mean!"  squeaked  Bink. 

The  party  sat  down  under  the  trees,  with  the  boys 
junched  together  near  them  and  talking  to  Rattle- 
ton  when  they  had  a  chance.  Frank  saw  that  the  girl 
was  remarkably  pretty,  and  he  could  not  understand 
how  a  girl  such  as  she  seemed  to  be  could  enjoy  the 
company  of  Herbert  Hammerswell,  to  say  nothing  of 
receiving  attentions  from  him. 

It  was  soon  apparent  that  Hammerswell  was  aware 
of  the  proximity  of  Merriwell's  party  and  that  he 
had  known  it  before  he  came  to  the  landing.  He 
came  close  inshore,  as  if  in  bravado,  though  only  two 


178  In  the  Woods, 

days  before  he  had  sought  to  bring  about  Frank's  ar- 
rest on  a  trumped-up  charge  of  murder,  and,  having 
failed  in  this,  had  shot  at  Frank  with  a  rifle  from  the 
depths  of  the  woods  while  in  a  rage,  the  ball  striking 
Merriwell's  bat  and  tearing  it  from  his  hands.  When 
he  was  able  to  see  the  party  plainly  he  called  the  girl's 
attention,  as  was  shown  by  his  motions  and  by  the 
glance  she  sent  shoreward. 

"She  saw  me!"  exclaimed  Bink.  "I'm  going  right 
over  to  the  Lake  View  and  get  acquainted  as  soon  as 
she  comes  back." 

"She  was  looking  at  me!"  Danny  asserted.  "Say," 
turning  to  one  of  the  boys,  "is  this  Delancy  wealthy?" 

"Got  more  money  'n  he  knows  what  to  do  with." 

"He  might  give  some  of  it  to  Carker  to  distribute 
to  the  poor !"  Bart  growled,  under  his  breath. 

Hammerswell  knew  that  he  was  safe  out  there  in 
the  sailboat,  and,  because  of  this,  he  insolently  stared 
at  the  group  under  the  trees  as  the  boat  swept  by. 

"I'd  choke  him  if  I  had  my  hands  on  him!"  said 
Bart.  "Merriwell,  are  you  going  to  let  that  matter  end 
as  it  is?  If  you  don't  whip  him  for  what  he  did  to 
you,  I  will." 

"I  think  we'll  have  a  settlement,"  was  Frank's  sig- 
nificant answer.  "I  hoped  the  fellow  had  got  out  of 
the  country." 

The  girl  did  not  again  look  toward  the  shore,  and 
Merriwell's  party  did  not  stare  at  the  boat.  Bart 


In  the  Woods.  179 

Hodge,  however,  flashed  Herbert  Hammerswell  a 
glance  of  hate.  Soon  the  boat  passed  from  sight  round 
a  bend. 

"If  I'd  been  a  man  I'd  'a'  whipped  Hammerswell 
yesterday  when  he  said  that  Frank  Merriwell  was  a 
big  stiff!"  one  of  the  boys  was  heard  to  whisper  to 
another. 

"Oh,  he's  jist  mad  'cause  the  Wabeeks  got  licked," 
the  other  answered,  with  a  sniff  of  disgust.  "I  heard 
him  tell  one  o'  the  men  that  he  bet  money  on  the  Wa- 
beeks. Wish't  Merriwell  would  play  'em  again.  It 
would  make  him  sicker  at  the  stummick  than  ever!'* 

"That  double  shoot  is  what  paralyzes  'em.  He  can 
make  the  ball  cut  all  kinds  of  riggers  in  the  air.  My 
brother  Bob  says  't  he  can  pitch  the  ball  one  way 
and  then  pitch  it  another,  and  that  the  two  lines  will 
make  a  reg'lar  figger  eight!" 

The  boys  did  not  intend  that  their  conversation 
should  be  overheard.  Bruce  laughed,  and  Merriwell, 
getting  somewhat  red  in  the  face,  arose  for  a  stroll 
along  the  lake.  "Too  much  fame  for  me !"  he  said,  as 
he  walked  away  with  Bart  and  Rattleton,  closely 
watched  by  the  admiring  youngsters. 

"What  else  can  you  expect?"  asked  Rattleton. 
"Nearly  every  one  has  heard  of  your  pitching!" 

"It's  slightly  embarrassing,  to  say  the  least.  I 
think  I'd  prefer  not  to  be  quite  so  famous.  I'm  glad 
to  have  the  boys  like  me,  but  it  makes  a  fellow  feel 


i8o  In  the  Woods. 

queer  to  be  pointed  out  and  stared  at  as  if  he  were  a 
camel  in  a  circus  parade." 

"We're  going  in  the  direction  taken  by  the  boat/*1 
said  Hodge,  stopping. 

"What's  the  odds?"  queried  Rattleton.  "Hammers- 
well  doesn't  own  the  lake." 

"I  think  if  I'd  known  he  was  at  the  Lake  View 
I'd  have  pitched  the  camp  somewhere  else.  It's  an- 
noying to  know  that  such  a  cad  and  sneak  is  in  the 
neighborhood,"  Merriwell  declared. 

"Such  a  scoundrel!"  panted  Hodge. 

They  strolled  along  very  leisurely,  and  some  min- 
utes elapsed  before  they  rounded  the  wooded  bend. 
They  saw  the  boat  again  as  they  came  out  in  full  view 
of  the  lake.  Hammerswell  had  sailed  down  a  short  dis- 
tance and  was  coming  back. 

"He  wants  to  tantalize  us  by  sailing  back  and  forth 
in  front  of  our  camp !"  snarled  Hodge. 

"It  certainly  begins  to  look  that  way,"  Merry  ad- 
mitted. 

"He  feels  safe  as  long  as  he  is  out  there,  and  he 
knows  we  won't  go  up  to  the  hotel  and  thrash  him!" 

"He  isn't  so  very  safe!"  panted  Rattleton.  "Whee- 
giz !  Did  you  see  that  ?  'Bost  turned  the  moat  over— 
'most  turned  the  boat  over !" 

The  wind  had  perceptibly  freshened,  the  waves  were 
running  high  enough  to  throw  white-caps,  and  neas 


In  the  Woods.  181 

the  shore,  where  the  boat  was,  the  rocks  seemed  to 
hurl  them  back  in  a  confused  and  broken  mass. 

Hammerswell,  in  trying  to  change  the  boat's  course, 
had  let  the  mainsail  and  jib  fill  with  a  quick  jerk 
and  had  not  put  up  the  helm,  and  the  boat  had  almost 
gone  over.  The  girl  was  seen  to  leap  excitedly  to  her 
feet.  Hammerswell  made  another  awkward  effort. 
The  boom  came  back  with  a  slashing  swing,  knocking 
the  girl  overboard. 

"Whee-giz!"  again  gasped  Rattleton.  "Did  you 
jee  that  ?" 

Merriwell  did  not  say  anything,  but  began  to  run 
with  all  his  might  for  the  rocky  point  nearest  to  the 
boat.  And  as  he  ran  he  threw  off  his  coat 


CHAPTER  XV. 

LUCY     LIVINGSTON, 

Bart  Hodge  was  close  at  Frank  Merriwell's  Heels, 
and  he  was  a  good  runner,  but  not  so  good  as  Merri- 
well.  Rattleton  followed  at  his  best  pace,  as  soon  as 
he  could  recover  from  his  astonishment.  The  girl  was 
not  to  be  seen  when  Frank  gained  the  point.  Ham- 
merswell  was  frightened,  and  was  throwing  the  helm 
back  and  forth  in  a  frantic  effort  to  secure  his  own 
safety,  but  he  evidently  had  lost  his  head. 

Without  taking  time  to  remove  his  shoes,  Frank 
leaped  into  the  water  and  began  to  swim  rapidly  to- 
ward the  spot  where  the  girl  had  disappeared.  Hodge 
had  thrown  off  his  coat  and  now  imitated  Merri- 
well's example,  following  almost  in  his  friend's  wake. 
When  Rattleton  gained  the  point  Frank  was  half-way 
to  the  boat.  He  saw  the  girl  come  to  the  surface, 
throw  up  her  hands,  and  disappear  again.  But  as  she 
went  down  she  caught  hold  of  a  rope  near  the  bow- 
sprit and  seemed  to  draw  herself  up. 

Rattleton  was  greatly  excited. 

"If  she  can  mang  on  a  hinite — hang  on  a  minute — > 
Merry  will  save  her !  No,  there  she's  gone !" 

The  honest  fellow  groaned  as  he  saw  the  girl's  head 
go  beneath  the  waves.  Hammerswell  had  again  tried 


Lucy  Livingston.  i8> 

to  change  the  boat's  course,  and  had  shifted  the  helm 
so  suddenly  and  let  the  sails  fill  so  quickly  that  the 
rope  to  which  the  girl  was  clinging  with  drowning  grip 
had  been  torn  from  her  fingers. 

But  the  delay  had  brought  Merriwell  much  nearer. 
He  saw  the  streaming  hair  disappear,  and  he  dived  in 
the  same  instant.  To  the  excited  mind  of  Harry 
Rattleton,  Frank  was  under  the  water  a  long  time.  Yet 
Hodge  had  gained  but  a  little  distance  when  Frank 
came  up  near  the  tossing,  yawing  boat,  and  when  he 
came  up  he  held  the  girl. 

"Whoop!"  Rattleton  screeched,  dancing  about  on 
the  rocks.  "Whoop!  He's  got  her!" 

He  ran  as  far  down  to  the  water's  edge  as  he  could 
and  looked  anxiously  about  to  ascertain  if  he  could 
do  anything  to  aid  his  friends.  Hodge  was  swim- 
ming on  with  firm  and  rapid  strokes. 

"There  never  was  another  fellow  like  Merriwell!" 
Harry  exclaimed,  while  his  heart  warmed  with  delight. 
Then  he  sent  up  a  yell  that  was  both  a  call  for  help 
and  a  shout  of  triumph.  He  saw  Frank  swim  to  the 
boat,  holding  the  girl's  head  well  up  out  of  the  water, 
saw  him  grasp  the  boat's  side,  and  heard  him  ask 
Hammerswell  for  help.  Then  he  saw  the  coward  lift 
the  long  oar  that  lay  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  and 
strike  at  Frank  with  it. 

"Keep  away!"  Hammerswell  shouted.  "You'll  up- 
set the  boat!  Keep  away,  I  tell  you  I" 


1 84  Lucy  Livingston. 

But  Hodge  was  soon  alongside.  Rattleton's  shout 
had  been  heard  at  the  camp,  and  the  boys  and  the 
members  of  Merriwell's  party  were  coming  at  head- 
long speed,  assured  that  something  was  wrong.  Rat- 
tleton  was  wildly  dancing  up  and  down  the  rocks. 

"You  scoundrel!"  Hodge  sputtered,  as  he  lifted 
himself  at  the  boat's  stern  and  swung  himself  upward 
with  a  muscular  grip.  "I'll  throw  you  into  the  lake !" 

"You'll  upset  the  boat!"  Hammerswell  shrieked. 
•'Keep  off,  I  say!" 

Then  he  lifted  the  oar  and  struck  at  Bart.  Hodge 
grasped  it  and  hung  on,  while  Hammerswell,  jerking 
and  flouncing  backward,  in  an  effort  to  get  the  oar 
free,  almost  drew  him  into  the  boat.  The  next  mo- 
ment Hodge  was  in  the  boat.  Then,  with  clothes 
streaming  water,  and  with  his  face  working  with  rage, 
he  threw  himself  on  Hammerswell,  tore  the  oar  from 
his  hands,  and  seemed  on  the  point  of  pitching  the 
cowardly  rascal  overboard. 

Suddenly  he  remembered  that  Frank  Merriwell  and 
the  girl  needed  help,  and  he  turned  to  them,  leaving 
Hammerswell  gasping  and  frightened  and  crouching 
on  his  knees  near  the  bow.  Merriwell  had  clung  to 
the  side  of  the  boat,  holding  the  girl's  head  and  shoul- 
ders above  the  waves. 

"I  need  help,"  he  said,  as  Bart  appeared.  "That 
fellow " 


Lucy  Livingston.  185 

"I'll  settle  with  him!  Here,  let  me  get  hold  of  herJ 
That's  right.  Now!" 

Hodge  grasped  the  girl's  arms  and  shoulders  and 
slowly  drew  her  into  the  boat.  Then  Merriwell  swam 
round  to  the  stern  and  quickly  climbed  in. 

Hodge  had  laid  the  girl  down.  She  was  unconscious 
and  seemed  dead.  Hammerswell  was  still  crouching 
where  Hodge  had  left  him,  and  was  shaking  as  with 
an  ague.  Once  or  twice  he  half-rose,  as  if  he  thought 
of  leaping  overboard  and  swimming  ashore,  but  the 
water  frightened  him  and  he  drew  back. 

"Look  after  the  boat,"  Merriwell  commanded,  be- 
ginning the  work  of  resuscitating  the  half-drowned 
girl,  and  with  such  success,  too,  that  in  a  very  few 
minutes  the  girl  showed  signs  of  returning  anima- 
tion. 

Hodge  soon  had  the  boat  under  control  and  headed 

it  toward  the  landing.     Hammerswell  seemed  half  in 

5  a  faint.     Merriwell's  friends  and  the  boys  from  the 

big  hotel  were  walking  and  running  excitedly  along 

the  shore. 

Once  or  twice  Bart  glanced  at  Herbert  Hammers- 
well  in  a  way.  to  make  the  scoundrel's  teeth  chatter, 
but  for  the  most  part  he  gave  his  attention  to  work- 
ing the  boat  and  to  watching  the  successful  efforts  of 
his  friends. 

The  boat  went  along  briskly  under  the  influence  of 
<be  freshening  breeze.  In  any  but  the  most  unskilful 


1 86  Lucy  Livingston. 

hands  it  was  a  good,  safe  vessel.  And  the  boys  and 
youths  on  the  shore  gave  expression  to  their  excite- 
ment and  pleasure  in  cries  and  shouts  and  whoops. 
Suddenly  it  occurred  to  Rattleton,  who  had  been  wildly 
anxious  to  help,  that  there  was  something  he  could  do. 

"Going  for  a  carriage!"  he  exclaimed,  and  started 
on  a  run  for  the  Lake  View  Hotel,  accompanied  by 
the  largest  of  the  boys,  who  sprinted  along  at  his  side 
in  lively  fashion. 

"Ugh!"  Hammerswell  exclaimed,  as  the  water 
which  had  been  collecting  in  the  boat  from  the  wet 
clothing  sloshed  toward  him.  "Ugh!  I'll  get  my 
knees  wet!" 

Whereupon  he  scrambled  up  and  gingerly  tried  to 
hold  his  bright  tan  shoes  out  of  the  water. 

The  coats  thrown  off  by  Hodge  and  Frank  had  been 
picked  up,  and  two  of  the  boys  were  quarreling  as  to 
which  of  them  should  carry  Merriwell's. 

Frank  continued  his  efforts  to  revive  the  girl,  ana 
by  the  time  the  boat  reached  the  landing  she  had  re- 
gained her  senses,  though  physically  so  weak  she 
could  not  hold  up  her  head.  As  soon  as  the  boat 
touched,  Herbert  Hammerswell  made  a  sprint  for  the 
float  and  then  ran  toward  the  hotel  as  if  his  life  de- 
pended on  it. 

"Going  for  a  doctor !"  he  called  back,  thinking  that 
it  might  be  well  to  have  a  convenient  excuse  to  ac- 
count for  this  show  of  cowardice. 


Lucy  Livingston.  187 

As  Frank  lifted  the  girl,  Bruce  took  her  in  his  strong 
arms  and  bore  her  across  the  float  to  the  shore.  Frank 
followed,  as  did  Hodge  as  soon  as  he  had  secured  the 
boat.  Browning  motioned  to  some  of  his  friends,  and 
soon  a  comfortable  bed  of  coats  was  prepared  under 
the  nearest  tree,  upon  which  the  girl  was  deposited. 

Her  strength  had  so  much  returned  by  this  time 
that  she  was  able  to  look  around  her. 

"I  want  to  thank  you  for  saving  my  life;  and  you, 
too!"  she  whispered,  speaking  to  Merriwell  and 
Hodge,  whose  soaked  clothing  pointed  out  her  res- 
cuers. "The  boom  knocked  me  over !" 

"Did  it  injure  you  in  any  way?"  Merriwell  anx- 
iously asked. 

"I — I  think  not,"  was  her  weak  answer.  Then  her 
head  fell  back  on  the  pillow  of  coats. 

In  spite  of  her  drenched  condition  and  the  unnatural 
whiteness  of  her  face,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  she 
was  a  very  pretty  girl,  seventeen  or  eighteen  years  old. 
Her  hair  was  brown,  her  eyes  blue,  and  her  features 
revealed  intelligence  as  well  as  beauty. 

Bruce  looked  off  toward  the  Lake  View,  the  white 
towers  of  which. rose  from  a  natural  grove  near  the 
water. 

"The  carriage  will  be  here  soon.  Rattles  has  had 
time  to  get  there." 

"I  wish  I  could  have  laid  hands  on  Hammerswell  I" 
said  Bart. 


1 88  Lucy  Livingston. 

"You  and  Bart  ought  to  change  clothes,  Merriwell," 
Carker  advised. 

As  she  heard  the  name,  a  surge  of  color  came  into 
the  girl's  face.  She  looked  earnestly  at  Merriwell, 
then  at  Bart. 

"Could  I  have  a  few  words  with  you  ?"  was  her  sur- 
prising request,  addressed  to  Frank. 

"Certainly." 

The  others  drew  aside  instantly. 

"You  won't  punish  Mr.  Hammerswell  for  what  he 
did  the  other  day?"  she  begged. 

"He's  a  coward,"  said  Frank.  "He  refused  to  help 
you  when  the  boom  knocked  you  into  the  water,  and 
iwhen  Hodge  and  I  swam  out  to  you  he  tried  to  beat 
us  away  from  the  boat  with  the  oar,  fearing  we  might 
Overturn  it.  He  would  have  let  you  drown." 

"I  ask  this  for  the  sake  of  my  father,"  she  begged. 
"I  can't  explain  more  now.  For  the  sake  of  my 
father." 

Merriwell  hesitated.  Perhaps  she  was  not  Ham- 
flierswell's  sweetheart — did  not  care  anything  for  him? 
[Perhaps  there  was  a  reason  far  below  the  surface  that 
made  her  accept  his  attentions?  These  thoughts,  like 
questions,  flashed  on  Frank. 

"For  the  sake  of  my  father!"  she  implored.  It  was 
impossible  to  resist  her  pleading  look. 

"For  vour  sake  and  your  father's,    we    will    not 


Lucy  Livingston.  189 

trouble  Herbert  Hammerswell,  if  he  does  not  further 
trouble  us." 

"And  your  friend,  the  one  who  spoke  now,  the  one 
called  Bart,  can  you  promise  that  for  him  ?** 

"Yes,"  said  Frank. 

"My  name  is  Lucy  Livingston." 

"And  mine,  Frank  Merriwell." 

She  looked  at  him  so  earnestly  and  trustingly  that 
he  colored. 

"I  can't  explain  now.  Perhaps  some  time.  But  I 
thank  you,  Mr.  Merriwell,  from  the  depths  of  my 
heart.  This  isn't  merely  the  whim  of  a  girl." 

She  was  silent  a  moment.  A  pinkish  tint  came  into 
her  white  cheeks,  and  again  she  looked  at  Merriwell. 

"Will  you  think  it  very  strange  if  I  make  another) 
Bequest?  You  will  not,  I  hope." 

"I  shall  be  happy  to  serve  you  in  any  way,"  Frank 
answered,  bowing  politely  in  his  soaked  and  drip- 
ping clothing. 

The  tint  in  her  cheeks  grew  brighter. 

"I  want  you  to  pitch  against  the  Wabeek  nine  again 
and  beat  them." 

"It  would  be  impossible  to  promise  that,  for  it  might 
be  an  impossible  thing  to  do." 

"Oh,  I  am  sure  you  can,"  she  insisted. 

"My  wrist  is  in  a  bad  condition." 

She  glanced  anxiously  at  the  wrist,  and  her  face , 
showed  disappointment. 


190  Lucy  Livingston. 

"If  only  you  could,"  she  urged.  "Perhaps  your 
wrist  will  be  much  better  in  a  day  or  two.  Oh,  if 
you  could." 

"My  wrist  is  in  very  bad  shape.  I  should  be  glad 
to  please  you  in  this,  and " 

"Carriage  coming!"  yelled  one  of  the  boys. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
MOVING   PICTURES. 

An  hour  later,   when   Merriwell  and  the  original] 
members  of  his  Athletic  Team  were  lounging  and  talk- ; 
ing  at  the  camp,  John  Swiftwing,  the  Pueblo  Indian 
and  Adirondack  guide,  who  had  been  recently  added  to 
the  membership,  appeared  in  their  midst.    Behind  him 
came  Ben  Romine,  of  whose  murder  Merriwell  had 
been  accused  by  Hammerswell.     Romine  was  drag- 
ging Hammerswell  by  the  collar. 

"I've  got  the  skunk!"  he  grated.  "I  found  him 
sneakin'  round  in  the  trees  over  there.  He  tried  to 
run  when  he  seen  me,  but  he  didn't  run  fur.  I've 
got  him !" 

Hodge  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a  black  look  on  his 
face.  Merriwell  and  some  of  the  others  also  leaped  up. 

"I  brought  him  over  here  fer  you  to  thump  the  stuf- 
fin'  out  o'  him,"  said  Romine,  shaking  Hammerswell 
as  a  terrier  shakes  a  rat. 

There  was  a  patter  of  feet  and  a  dudish  youth 
burst  into  view. 

"Help!"  bawled  Hammerswell,  who  seemed  to  fear; 
that  he  was  about  to  be  killed.  The  dude  came  to  an 
irresolute  halt,  stuck  an  eyeglass  into  his  eye,  and 
owlishly  stared  at  the  group  of  excited  youths. 


192  '  .Moving  Pictures. 

"Aw!  what's  the  row?"  he  asked. 

"They're  going  to  murder  me,  Delancy!"  Ham- 
tnerswell  exclaimed. 

"Aw!  they  wouldn't,  you  know." 

"Let  him  go,"  said  Frank,  giving  Herbert  a  look 
of  scorn.  Romine  glanced  at  Merriwell  in  surprise. 
Delancy  Livingston  was  so  unlike  his  sister  that  Mer- 
riwell's  friends  could  but  regard  him  with  astonish- 
ment. He  was  sickly  and  sallow,  with  whitish  eyes 
and  wispy  hair.  That  his  intelligence  was  not  great 
could  be  seen  by  his  slanting  forehead  and  protuberant 
brows.  He  was  dressed  in  a  loud  golf-suit. 

"Could  hear  that  suit  a  mile,"  whispered  Bink. 

"A  good  mate  for  Hammerswell,"  Danny  whis- 
pered back.  "I  don't  think  I  want  to  marry  his  sis- 
ter." 

"Ain't  you  goin'  to  thump  him  ?"  Romine  demanded, 
still  with  his  hand  on  Herbert's  collar. 

"Let  him  go!"  said  Frank. 

Romine  withdrew  his  hand,  and  Hammerswell 
hopped  behind  Delancy  Livingston  for  protection. 

"Goin'  t'  let  men  shoot  at  ye  'thout  doing  anything 
to  'em  about  it?"  Romine  disgustedly  demanded. 

Merriwell  had  informed  his  friends  of  the  request 
Of  Lucy  Livingston,  but  in  spite  of  this  Hodge  ad- 
vanced as  if  he  meant  to  punish  Hammerswell. 

"Hit  him,  Delancy!"  Hammerswell  exclaimed. 

"Aw  1"  said  Delancy,  staring  at  Hodge  through  his 


Moving  Pictures.  193 

monocle  and  swinging  his  cane  as  if  it  were  a  golf 
club. 

"I  never  shot  at  him!"  Hammerswell  asserted. 

"You're  a  liar !"  Romine  snarled. 

"Luck  him  into  the  chake— chuck  him  into  the 
lake!"  Rattleton  suggested. 

"Yes,  give  him  a  lesson  in  swimming,"  drawled 
Bruce.  "He  hasn't  had  those  clothes  wet  this  morn- 
ing." 

"And  those  tan  shoes  need  a  bath !"  howled  Bink. 

"You  won't  dare  do  anything  of  the  kind!"  said 
Hammerswell,  dodging  behind  Delancy.  "You'll  get 
yourselves  into  a  whole  mess  of  trouble  if  you  try  it. 
Hit  them,  Delancy,  if  they  come  this  way !" 

"Aw!  they're  just  joking,  don't  you  know!" 

"I  think  I'd  like  a  photograph  of  this,"  said  Carker, 
with  an  amused  smile,  as  he  ducked  into  the  tent. 

"Don't  you  dare!"  cried  Hammerswell.  "I'll  sue 
you  for  damages." 

Greg  Carker  reappeared  with  his  camera. 

"Don't  you  dare!"  Hammerswell  warned,  dodging 
behind  the  dude.^  "If  you  do,  I'll  make  it  hot  for 
you !  I've  got  money  and  I'll  make  you  suffer  if  you 
do  that." 

"He  doesn't  like  to  think  of  photographs,"  sneered 
Hodge,  still  acting  as  if  uncertain  whether  or  not  to 
hammer  Herbert's  sneaking  visage. 

"We'll  get  a  series  of  moving  pictures  and  go  on 


r  194  Moving  Pictures. 

the  road  with,"  drawled  Bruce.  "It  will  draw  better 
than  the  Corbett-Jeffries  fight." 

"Photographs  make  him  weak  in  the  knees,"  said 
Danny.  "What  did  you  do  with  that  other  photo- 
graph, Herbert?" 

"Yes,  that's  what  we  want  to  know?"  queried 
Hodge.  "The  one  you  showed  to  Swiftwing?" 

Hammerswell,  in  preparing  to  make  his  charge  of 
the  murder  of  Ben  Romine  against  Merriwell  had 
combined  two  pictures:  one  of  Romine  lying  in  a 
woodland  path  stricken  down  by  a  bough  that  had 
fallen  from  a  tree;  the  other  picture  of  Merriwell 
pounding  the  head  of  a  snake  with  a  club.  The  new 
picture,  formed  by  cunningly  joining  these,  had  shown 
Merriwell  pounding  Ben  Romine  on  the  head  with 
the  club. 

"That  was  just  a  joke,  you  know !"  said  Hammers- 
well. 

"Then  you  don't  deny  that  you  had  such  a  photo- 
graph?" Frank  questioned. 

"He  doesn't  dare  to  deny  it,"  Swiftwing  declared. 

"I  was  just  trying  to  see  if  I  could  fool  anybody 
with  that,"  Hammerswell  brazenly  asserted.  "It  was 
all  a  bit  of  fun,  you  know.  I  didn't  mean  anything 
by  it." 

"But  you  sent  word  to  the  sheriff  and  had  him  ar- 
rest me  on  a  charge  of  murder,  and  all  on  the  strength 
of  the  evidence  furnished  by  that  photograph." 


Moving  Pictures.  195 

As  Merriwell  said  this  he  gave  Hammerswell  a 
look  that  made  him  shiver. 

"Hit  him,  Delancy,  if  he  comes  this  way." 

"Aw,"  said  Delancy,  flourishing  his  cane  and  staring 
at  Merriwell.  "Don't  you  dare  to  strike  the  man  who 
is  to  marry  my  sister!" 

"I'm  getting  the  moving  pictures  all  right!"  cried 
Carker,  who  was  industriously  manipulating  his 
camera. 

"What  about  that  business?"  Merriwell  asked,  his 
eyes  still  fixed  on  his  enemy. 

Again  Hammerswell  assumed  a  brazen  look. 

"I  was  betting  on  the  Wabeeks,  and  I  wanted  to  win 
my  bet.  I  wanted  to  have  you  arrested  and  pulled 
out  of  the  box,  and  then  I  thought  perhaps  I  could 
win." 

It  was  a  clever  lie. 

"You're  a  liar!"  snarled  Hodge.  "And  if  I  was 
Merriwell,  I'd  thump  you,  anyhow." 

Herbert  ducked  down  behind  Delancy,  as  if  he  ex- 
pected Hodge  to  make  a  lunge  at  him. 

"Aw!  that  was  all  a  joke,  don't  you  know,"  purred 
Delancy.  "Herbert  has  told  me  all  about  it.  He 
fooled  you  and  he  fooled  the  sheriff.  Deuced  clevaw, 
don't  you  know." 

"More  pictures!"  laughed  Carker,  the  bored  look- 
having  gone  out  of  his  face.  "I'm  afraid  I'll  have  ta 
get  some  more  film." 


196  Moving  Pictures. 

Bruce  looked  at  him  with  an  amused  smile. 

"This  is  life?" 

"This  is  life,  yes !  This  is  worth  while !  Take  that 
pose  again,  Delancy,  do!" 

"I'd  like  to  have  a  little  earthquake  with  it,"  grum- 
bled Bart.  "I  think  it  would  be  more  interesting." 

"Hit  him,  Delancy,"  said  Hammerswell,  again 
dodging. 

"There  are  more  days  coming,"  growled  Bart,  in 
a  threatening  tone. 

"When  you  go  up  against  him  let  me  know,  and 
I'll  get  another  series  to  add  to  this,"  laughed  Carker. 

Jack  Ready  had  produced  his  camera  and  was  also 
taking  snap-shots. 

"We'll  go  on  the  road  together,"  he  declared  to 
Carker.  "We'll  label  the  combination,  'The  Great 
Hammerswell  and  His  Patent  Body  Protector/ ' 

"Mum-mum-makes  me  think  of  a  she  billy-goat  pup- 
pup-protecting  her  lamb,"  put  in  Gamp.  "A-haw- 
haw!" 

"If  you'll  come  over  here  I'll  hit  you  with  this,  don't 
you  know,"  Delancy  threatened,  shaking  his  cane  at 
the  lank  New  Hampshire  youth. 

"You  cuc-cuc-can't  spell  Cain  until  you're  Abel." 

"I'll  sue  this  whole  outfit  for  this  outrage,"  Ham* 
merswell  fumed,  glaring  at  the  camera  fiends. 

He  began  to  retreat,  seeing  that  no  hands  were  in- 


Moving  Pictures.  197 

terposed  to  prevent  him,  being  wildly  anxious  to  get 
away. 

"Knock  their  heads  off  if  they  follow  us,  Delancy." 

"Aw,"  said  Delancy.  "They  won't  dare  to,  don't 
you  know." 

Again  he  flourished  the  cane  at  Gamp.  Merriwell 
seemed  to  have  recovered  from  his  anger,  and  was 
apparently  as  much  amused  as  Carker  and  Ready. 

"I'd  hit  him  one,"  growled  Hodge.  "Let  me  do  it 
for  you,  Merry." 

"And  break  my  promise?" 

Herbert  heard  the  words,  and  they  filled  his  heart 
with  relief.  He  wheeled  about  and  ran,  slowly  fol- 
lowed by  Delancy  Livingston,  who  now  and  then 
turned  and  shook  his  cane  at  the  group. 

Dan  Romine  had  disappeared,  though  no  one  ob- 
served it  but  John  Swiftwing.  The  open  way  of  re- 
treat led  toward  the  lake-shore,  and  Romine  had  ob- 
served this. 

Herbert  Hammerswell  swung  round  the  corner  of 
rocks  and  then  again  came  into  view.  As  he  did  so 
Romine  rose  up  beside  the  path,  caught  him  by  the 
waist  and  shoulders,  and,  with  a  powerful  swing, 
threw  him  bodily  into  the  lake.  Herbert  went  through 
the  air  with  a  cry  and  disappeared  in  the  lake  with 
a  resounding  splash.  Delancy  swung  his  cane  and 
bounded  forward.  The  group  at  the  camp  started  for 
the  shore. 


198  Moving  Pictures. 

They  halted  half-way  down.  Hammerswell  came 
to  the  surface,  blowing  the  water  from  his  mouth  and 
puffing  like  a  porpoise.  He  could  not  swim  much,  but 
he  began  to  paddle  to  the  shore. 

"Aw!"  Delancy  was  heard  to  exclaim.  Then  he 
stepped  to  the  edge  of  the  water  and  held  out  his 
cane.  Herbert  wildly  grasped  it  and  the  dude  gin- 
gerly pulled  him  out  of  the  lake. 

"Let  me  give  him  a  football  kick,"  begged  John 
Swiftwing,  looking  savagely  at  the  dripping,  hatless 
figure. 

"I'll  sue  you  for  this  outrage !"  Hammerswell  cried, 
shaking  his  fist  at  the  group. 

"Go  'long,  or  I'll  kick  you  into  tan-bark!"  threat- 
ened Romine. 

Delancy  made  a  desperate  effort  to  retain  his  dig- 
nity. He  fitted  his  eyeglass  and  stared  at  the  guying 
group,  then  retreated,  following  Herbert  and  swinging 
his  cane.  And  as  they  went,  Merry's  friends,  led  by 
big  Bruce  Browning,  swung  their  caps  and  uttered  a 
wild  shout. 

"Well,"  said  Frank  quietly ;  "now  that's  settled  let's 
talk  over  something  worth  while — the  coming  match." 

They  settled  down  to  earnestly  discussing  their  fu- 
ture prospects  of  defeat  and  victory.  And,  while  they 
were  doing  so,  the  Wabeek  team — the  "University 
Nine,"  they  called  themselves — were  discussing  the  fu- 
ture game  also. 


Moving  Pictures.  199 

"We  simply  didn't  get  into  gear  somehow,"  Tip 
Curringer,  the  Princeton  pitcher  was  saying.  "I'm 
not  a  bit  afraid  of  Merriwell  in  the  box  on  ordinary 
occasions.  But  luck  was  simply  dead  against  us. 
There  is  such  a  thing  as  luck,  you  know.  In  poker 
the  cards  will  all  run  one  way  sometimes,  and  you 
can't  tell  why  it  is." 

"I  remember  a  time  when  the  cards  all  ran  to  the 
other  fellow,"  said  Wadkins,  the  short-stop,  who  be- 
longed to  Yale.  "The  other  fellow  was  working  a 
hold-out" 

He  smiled  grimly. 

"Oh,  I  think  there  was  no  cheating  in  the  game  the 
other  day,"  Dunstan  Kirk,  captain  and  manager,  also 
a  Yale  man,  commented.  "I  should  have  seen  it  if 
there  had  been." 

"Well,  there  were  several  places  in  which  a  stiff 
kick  against  the  decisions  of  the  umpire  would  have 
been  just  the  thing,  I'm  thinking.  If  I  had  been  cap- 
tain I  should  have  kicked.  Such  things  are  sometimes 
enough  to  win  or  lose  a  game." 

"That's  right,"  added  Severing,  of  Harvard.  "Up 
to  the  very  end  of  the  game  we  had  them  beaten. 
Those  scores  at  the  close  did  the  business  for  us." 

"Why  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighth  inning  I  was 
dead  sure  we  would  win,"  asserted  Mason,  also  of 
Harvard.  "I  would  have  bet  money  that  we  couldn't 
lose  if  we  tried." 


20O  Moving  Pictures. 

"Merriwell  had  been  fooling  us  with  that  pretense 
of  a  lame  wrist,"  growled  Curringer,  who  did  not  like 
the  way  Merriwell  had  defeated  him  in  clever  work  in 
the  box. 

"I'm  beginning  to  think,  myself,  that  is  a  very  con- 
venient  thing,"  admitted  Kirk,  who  had  been  the  cap- 
tain of  the  Yale  nine,  and  was,  therefore,  well  ac- 
quainted with  Frank. 

"I  think  I'll  go  into  the  business  of  nursing  a  sore 
wrist.  It's  a  sort  of  mascot  idea,"  growled  Cur- 
ringer. 

"You  may  be  sure  that  I  should  have  made  a  kick 
if  there  had  been  any  grounds  for  one.  But  you  see, 
even  though  it  is  possible  there  were  a  few  times  when 
a  kick  might  have  been  in  order,  I  saw  no  need  of  it. 
Why,  I  thought  we  weren't  in  any  danger.  Merri- 
well's  men  weren't  doing  anything.  Everything  was 
coming  our  way." 

"But  you  can't  tell,"  grumbled  Wadkins.  "When- 
ever there  is  a  chance  to  kick,  kick  anyway." 

"As  captain  and  manager,  I  shall  never  make  a 
kick  unless  I  see  that  I  am  right.  What's  an  um- 
pire for?" 

Kirk  had  some  good  traits.  One  of  them  was  the 
feeling  that  honor  ruled,  or  should  rule,  among  col- 
lege players  and  teams.  He  would  not  permit  a  dis- 
honorable thing,  if  he  knew  of  it. 

"Oh,  it  was  simply  dead  luck,"  said  Perkins,  of  the 


Moving  Pictures.  201 

University  of  Pennsylvania.    "There  is  no  other  way 
to  account  for  it." 

"I  saw  Hammerswell  this  morning,"  said  Gait,  a 
Princeton  man. 

"He  was  betting  on  us,  and  he  says  he  cooked  up  a 
story  to  get  Merriwell  out  of  the  box  so  that  he  could 
win,"  explained  Mason,  of  Brown. 

"He's  a  liar!"  declared  Kirk.  "I  haven't  any  use 
for  that  fellow.  I  believe  that  he  fired  that  shot  from 
the  woods,  even  if  he  does  deny  it.  If  not,  why  did 
he  sneak  his  things  away  from  this  hotel  and  go  over 
to  the  Lake  View  ?" 

"Easy  enough  to  account  for  that,"  answered  Ma- 
son. "He  was  afraid  that  Merriwell  or  some  mem- 
ber of  his  set  would  whip  him  for  bringing  the  sheriff 
to  make  the  arrest.  And  I  suppose  they  would." 

"I  hope  they  will,"  declared  Kirk. 

"Thought  you  were  against  Merriwell?"  growled 
Wadkins,  getting  up  and  going  to  the  window  of  the 
hotel  looking  out  over  the  lake.  "I  guess  you  think 
as  much  of  him  as  you  ever  did.  I  say,  play  them 
again.  Make  tfiem  play  us.  They'll  not  want  to,  for 
they  would  like  to  stop  while  they're  safe.  But  force 
them  into  another  game." 

"I'm  in  favor  of  playing  them  again,"  said  Kirk. 
"I'd  be  as  glad  to  meet  them  again  as  any  one." 

"So  would  I,"  Curringer  declared,    "I  know  Frank 


202  Moving  Pictures. 

Merriwell  can't  beat  me  pitching.  I  know  it.  I  want 
another  chance  to  prove  it." 

"And  I  think  I'd  like  to  show  Mr.  Bart  Hodge  that 
he  is  not  the  only  grass-blade  on  the  diamond,"  said 
Gait,  who  felt  that  he  was  a  much  better  catcher  than 
Hodge. 

"If  I  can't  do  better  work  at  short  than  that  little 
rat  of  a  Bink  Stubbs,  I'll  eat  my  hat,"  growled  Wad- 
kins. 

"That's  what  grinds  me,  fellows,"  Kirk  admitted. 
"To  be  beaten  by  a  regular  college  nine  wouldn't  be  so 
bad.  Or  to  be  defeated  by  a  nine  that  had  anything 
like  the  strength  of  ours.  But  such  a  conglomeration 
as  that !  Such  a  hodge-podge !  It  makes  me  sick !" 

"I've  been  decidedly  weary,"  admitted  Curringer. 

"Such  an  aggregation  of  freaks!"  added  Severing. 

"Any  village  team  ought  to  beat  them.  I  tell  you, 
fellows,  I  can't  understand  it.  It  must  have  been  sim- 
ply blind  luck."  This  from  Allen  Ogle,  of  Harvard, 
the  right-fielder. 

"Let's  send  them  another  challenge,"  cried  Gait. 

"That's  the  stuff!" 

"Force  them  to  give  us  satisfaction." 

"Make  them  meet  us." 

"It  was  simply  a  case  of  dead  luck  that  may  not  hap- 
pen again  in  a  year.  Demand  another  game !" 

A  half-dozen  were  talking  at  once.  Dunstan  Kirk 
Smiled  with  evident  pleasure. 


Moving  Pictures.  203 

"Fellows,  I  know  that  we  can  beat  them.  The  game 
the  other  day  shows  it.  We  had  them  just  as  good  as 
beaten,  when  Merriwell's  lucky  hit  at  the  very  end  of 
the  game  gave  them  two  scores.  Griswold  made  tv;o 
lucky  hits,  one  of  them  a  three-bagger ;  a  thing  I  never 
knew  the  fellow  to  do  before.  He  couldn't  do  it  again 
in  a  thousand  times.  As  Curringer  says,  it  was  blind 
luck.  We  had  them  beaten  out  of  sight,  but  they 
struck  a  streak  in  the  eighth  and  ninth  innings  and  won 
out.  I'm  in  favor  of  challenging  them." 

"And  we'll  make  them  play !"  said  Gait. 

"You  bet!"  cried  Wadkins. 

"Sore  wrists  don't  go !"  growled  Curringer. 

"If  they  won't  play  us,  we'll  know  that  they're  afraid 
to  try  it  over,"  asserted  Wadkins. 

"Well,  if  they  back  down,"  said  Mason,  "we  can 
use  it  as  proof  of  what  we  claim — that  they  won  by 
pure  luck,  and  that  they  know  it  and  are  fearful  of 
putting  the  thing  to  a  test.  We  can  do  that,  and  the 
claim  of  a  lame  wrist  will  be  seen  through  by  the 
people.  As  Curringer  says,  it's  convenient  at  times  for 
an  important  pitcher  to  have  a  lame  wrist." 

"And  force 'them  to  play  right  away.  Demand  an 
early  game!"  Curringer  begged.  "Will  you  deliver 
the  challenge  in  person?  I'd  like  to  go  with  you,  if 
you  do." 

"Then  it's  agreed  that  we're  to  send  a  challenge?" 

"Yes,"  every  one  shouted. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

HOW   THE   CHALLENGE    WAS   RECEIVED. 

Bruce  Browning  was  lying  on  his  back,  staring  up 
at  the  sky  through  the  green  branches  at  one  side  of 
the  largest  tent,  when  Kirk  and  Curringer  came  over 
from  Wabeek  with  the  challenge.  He  lazily  roused 
himself  when  they  appeared. 

"Where  is  Merriwell?"  Kirk  asked. 

"In  the  tent  there.    Bathing  his  wrist,  I  think." 

Browning  sat  up  and  stared  at  them  as  they  went  to 
the  tent  door. 

"I'll  bet  it's  a  challenge !"  he  grunted.  "Who  wants 
to  play  baseball  out  here  in  the  woods?  But  Merry 
won't  do  it,  for  his  wrist  isn't  fit.  Some  fellows  aren't 
satisfied  unless  they're  exercising  themselves  to  death 
all  the  time!" 

.  He  groaned;  then,  hearing  Kirk  speak  to  Merri- 
well, he  slowly  got  up  from  the  ground  and  lounged 
round  to  the  tent  door. 

"Come  in,"  Frank  was  inviting. 

Hodge  was  in  the  tent  with  him,  and  had  been  rub- 
bing some  liniment  into  Merriwell's  lame  wrist,  which 
was  swollen  and  painful. 

Kirk  and  Curringer  accepted  the  invitation.  Kirk 
held  out  a  paper  as  he  entered. 


How  the  Challenge  Was  Received.    205 

"We  want  to  play  you  fellows  again,"  he  explained. 
"We  think  that  you  beat  us  by  a  lucky  streak  instead 
of  good  playing,  and  we  want  to  prove  it  by  meeting 
you  again  and  defeating  you." 

Frank  flushed,  but  merely  laughed,  as  he  pointed 
them  to  some  camp-stools  and  dropped  upon  one  him- 
self. Hodge  was  annoyed  and  irritated.  Browning 
lounged  into  the  tent  and  also  dropped  upon  a  camp- 
chair.  Before  answering,  Merry  opened  the  written 
sheet  and  looked  it  over.  It  was  a  challenge  in  due 
form.  He  passed  it  to  Hodge. 

"I  should  like  to  accept  that  But  you  see  this 
wrist." 

He  held  it  out 

"I  hurt  it  in  that  game.  I  shouldn't  have  pitched 
at  all,  to  tell  the  truth,  after  that  accident.  The  wheels 
passed  over  my  wrist,  I  feel  sure." 

"We  can  do  you  fellows,  just  the  same!"  Hodge 
snarled.  "If  Merry  had  half  a  wrist,  we  could  do 
you." 

Kirk  looked  doubtful,  and  Curringer  perceptibly 
sneered.  Danny  and  Jack  Ready,  who  had  been  ta- 
king a  siesta  in  a  hammock  not  far  away,  came  in. 

"They  want  us  to  play  them  again,"  Frank  ex- 
plained, taking  the  challenge  from  Bart  and  passing  it 
to  Ready,  who  read  it,  with  Danny  looking  on. 

"I'm  ready,"  Danny  chirped. 


ao6    How  the  Challenge  Was  Received. 

"That's  my  name,  too,"  said  Jack.  "I'm  always 
Ready." 

"But  I'm  not,"  Frank  declared. 

"Of  course,  you're  not  afraid  to  meet  us?"  Kirk 
queried,  while  Curringer  gave  the  lame  wrist  a  ques- 
tioning look. 

"Not  on  your  life,  we  ain't!"  said  Rattleton,  com- 
ing in.  " Whee-giz !  why  should  we  be  afraid  to  meet 
you?" 

"  'Willing  to  mum-meet  you  any  tut-time  and  place/ 
as  the  feller  sus-said  to  his  best  gug-girl,"  stuttered 
Joe  Gamp,  who  had  followed  Rattleton. 

"  'Just  dying  to  meet  you,  dear/  as  his  best  girl 
said  to  the  feller,"  Danny  chattered,  addressing  Kirk. 
"  'The  memory  of  the  last  time  is  precious  to  me.' ' 

"  'And  it  will  be  a  warm  time  when  we  do  meet/ 
as  they  both  said  to  each  other,"  Jack  Ready  chirped. 
"  'The  time  goes  slow,  my  darling ;  the  time  goes 
slow.  I  wish  it  might  be  this  afternoon/  ' 

Curringer  gave  the  chatterers  a  glance  of  contempt. 

"Talk  never  wins  a  game,"  he  growled. 

"That  must  be  why  you  never  win,  then,"  Danny 
asserted,  not  at  all  abashed. 

"We  want  to  know  if  you  will  meet  us — if  you  ac- 
cept or  reject  the  challenge." 

"I  suppose  there  will  be  time  given  to  think  it 
over?"  asked  Bruce,  looking  anxiously  at  Frank's 
wrist.  "I'm  not  ready  to  meet  anything,  myself.  It's 


How  the  Challenge  Was  Received.    207 

a  shame  to  waste  these  glorious  days  stewing  on  a 
diamond.  Still " 

"I  can't  pitch,"  was  Frank's  positive  assertion,  "or, 
rather,  I  won't,  which  amounts  to  the  same  thing." 

"I  wanted  to  get  at  you  again,"  said  Curringer. 
"You  claim  to  be  a  better  man  in  the  box  than  I  am. 
You " 

"I  claim  nothing  of  the  kind,  Curringer." 

"Don't  you  say  that  you're  about  the  best  pitcher 
on  the  planet  ?" 

"I  do  not." 

"I've  heard  the  claim  made." 

"Not  by  me,  Curringer." 

"But  you've  claimed  that  you  can  put  it  all  over 
me,  as  a  pitcher." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind." 

"Well,  you're  friends  have  claimed  it." 

"That's  quite  a  different  thing.  I'm  not  respon- 
sible for  what  my  friends  think  and  say.  You  must 
see  that  yourself." 

"You  can't  pitch  in  the  same  class.  You  can't  pitch 
a  little  bit,  compared  to  Merriwell,  when  his  wrist  is  all 
right,"  Hodge  hotly  asserted.  "You  know  it,  too. 
*And  so  does  Kirk." 

Curringer  flushed  redly. 

"I  wasn't  talking  to  you,"  he  said. 

"Well,  I  was  talking  to  you !  You  came  down  here 
urith  this  challenge  when  you  knew  that  Merry  was 


2o8   How  the  Challenge  Was  Received 

in  no  condition.  You  knew  it  the  other  day.  You 
knew  that  he  ought  not  to  have  pitched  that  game,  for 
you  saw  the  accident.  I  see  through  your  little  game, 
Curringer !  You  want  to  make  us  refuse  to  accept  this 
challenge,  and  then  go  out  and  crow  over  us." 

Curringer  rose  to  his  feet.     His  face  was  flaming. 

"I  don't  allow  any  man  to  talk  that  way  to  me," 
he  declared. 

"Help  it,  then!" 

Hodge  got  on  his  feet  also.  His  face  was  as  black 
as  a  thunder-cloud. 

"I'll  say  what  I  think,  Curringer,  to  you  or  any 
other,  man.  This  is  low-down,  dirty  business.  That's 
my  opinion  of  it,  and  my  opinion  of  you  is  that " 

"No  quarreling,"  Frank  sharply  commanded. 

Bart  turned  on  him  with  a  look  of  disgust. 

"Why,  can't  you  see  through  the  thing,  Merry? 
If  you  can't,  you  couldn't  see  a  hole  in  a  ladder.  It's 
a  sneaking,  contemptible  trick." 

"Are  you  saying  those  things  to  me?"  demanded 
Curringer. 

"Yes,  to  you !  To  you !  And  I  stand  ready  to  back 
them  up,  too." 

Merriwell  got  on  his  feet. 

"This  must  stop!"  he  said  sharply.  "There  will  be 
no  quarreling  or  fighting  in  this  tent  or  on  these 
grounds.  That's  sharp !" 

Hodge  drew  back.    His  fists  had  been  clenched,  and 


How  the  Challenge  Was  Received.    209 

he  had  seemed  ready  to  hurl  himself  on  the  man  he  was 
addressing. 

"There  are  other  places,"  said  Curringer. 

"You  bet  there  are  !  And  I  am  willing  to  meet  you 
wherever  and  whenever  you  say." 

"As  her  best  feller  said  to  his  best  girl,"  chirped 


"We'll  not  quarrel,"  said  Kirk.  "We  didn't  come 
flere  to  quarrel.  I  understand  that  John  Swiftwing  is 
now  one  of  your  pitchers?  Put  him  into  the  box,  if 
your  wrist  is  too  bad." 

"Swiftwing  is  out  of  practise,"  Merriwell  was  forced 
to  answer.  "He  has  been  up  here  a  good  while,  act- 
ing as  guide.  He  must  have  time  to  get  into  shape 
lor  good  work." 

Curringer  sneered  again.  Hodge  had  retreated, 
and  Curringer  was  again  sitting  on  the  camp-chair. 
His  sneer  said  as  well  as  words  that  this  was  another 
very  convenient  excuse.  Bruce  had  dropped  lazily 
back  on  a  cot,  but  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  Curringer. 

"If  he  should  try  any  monkey  business  here,  I'd 
rike  to  pitch  him.  out  of  the  tent  neck  and  heels." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,"  said  Merriwell,  who 
nad  been  doing  some  rapid  thinking,  and  before  whose 
mental  gaze  the  sweet  face  of  Lucy  Livingston  bright- 
ened. "If  you'll  give  us  two  days,  we'll  meet  you." 

"Whoop!  That's  the  stuff!"  shouted  Rattleton. 
The  lazy  look  went  out  of  Browning's  eyes. 


2io  How  the  Challenge  Was  Received. 

"Oh,  it  will  be  a  warm  time,  day  after  to-morrow," 
said  Ready. 

"I  don't  know  how  my  wrist  will  be  by  that  time; 
but,  if  I  can't  pitch,  we'll  risk  it  with  Swiftwing." 

"That  will  be  satisfactory,"  said  Kirk. 

But  Curringer  did  not  look  happy.  It  did  seem 
that  he  had  hoped  that  the  challenge  would  not  be  ac- 
cepted. 

"Oh,  the  wrist  will  be  well,  no  doubt,"  he  said,  in 
a  tone  that  brought  the  black  look  again  into  Hodge's 
face. 

"Another  thing,"  said  Merriwell  calmly.  "Two 
days  is  a  long  time  to  wait.  You  have  challenged  us, 
and  we  have  accepted.  I  now  challenge  you!" 

Kirk  opened  his  eyes  in  surprise,  and  every  one  grew 
breathless. 

"I  challenge  you  to  a  series  of  water  sports,  the 
contests  to  be  here  on  the  lake,  at  any  suitable  place. 
Fix  the  time,  but  I  should  like  to  have  it  to-morrow, 
the  day  before  the  ball-game." 

Kirk  was  annoyed.  He  looked  uneasily  at  Cur- 
ringer,  who  seemed  no  more  pleased  than  his  captain. 

"I  can't  accept  that  right  off,"  Kirk  was  forced 
to  say.  "You  must  give  us  time  to  think  about  it.  I 
don't  know  whether  we're  in  condition." 

"But  you  would  force  us  into  a  ball-game  when  you 
know  that  we're  not  in  condition!"  cried  Bart. 


How  the  Challenge  Was  Received.    211 

"We  don't  pretend  to  be  anything  but  a  ball-team," 
protested  Curringer. 

"And  we  are  only  a  ball-team,"  said  Merriwell. 

"We'll  have  to  have  time,"  said  Kirk.  "And, 
really " 

"You're  as  much  in  condition  as  we  are.  My  lame 
wrist  will  be  a  handicap  there,  too.  And  we've  not 
been  practising  in  that  line  at  all.  You  seemed  so 
anxious  for  something,  I  thought  we  might  be  able 
to  give  you  occupation  while  waiting  for  the  ball- 
game." 

"This  is  wholly  unexpected,"  Kirk  protested. 

"Meet  us  or  back  down.  That  is  the  way  you  came 
at  us  with  your  challenge." 

Kirk  fidgeted  and  Curringer's  face  grew  redder. 

"We'll  let  you  know  this  evening,"  Kirk  promised, 
rising  and  anxious  to  go.  He  and  Curringer  re- 
treated, covered  with  confusion  and  filled  with  uncer- 
tainty. 

An  hour  later  a  note  was  brought  in,  notifying 
Frank  Merriwell  that  the  challenge  was  accepted. 

Accordingly,  on  the  day  appointed,  an  immense 
crowd  had  gathered  on  the  shore,  not  far  from  the 
Lake  View  Hotel.  The  rocky  slopes,  which  here  rose 
precipitously,  were  black  with  a  swarming  mass  of  hu- 
manity trying  to  get  comfortable  and  desirable  seats 
overlooking  the  water. 


212    How  the  Challenge  Was  Received. 

Behind  the  bluff  on  the  landward  side,  toward  Mer- 
fiweH's  camp,  dressing-tents  were  pitched.  On  the 
flatter  slope  toward  the  Lake  View  were  rows  of  long 
seats  of  boards,  with  camp-chairs,  stools,  blocks  of 
wood,  stones  and  boulders,  and  everything  else  almost 
that  could  be  used  for  a  seat,  and  these  seats  were 
already  filled. 

"I  don't  know  where  all  the  people  came  from,  I'm 
sure,"  said  Lucy  Livingston,  speaking  to  Frank. 

Crowds  had  come  from  across  the  lake,  and  for 
more  than  two  hours  they  had  been  arriving  in  car- 
riages and  buggies  and  on  foot,  for  the  news,  of  the 
contest  had  spread  throughout  all  the  region  in  that 
short  time.  The  telephones  had  helped  much  to  dis- 
•eminate  it,  and  the  fact  that  the  sports  were  to  be 
unique  in  some  cases  aided  in  drawing  a  crowd. 

The  boys  from  the  Lake  View  were  there,  with  their 
numbers  increased  to  a  score.  They  had  a  big  blue 
flag,  with  a  large  white  "Y"  on  it,  which  they  frantic- 
ally waved  whenever  there  was  the  least  excuse,  and 
they  were  also  supplied  with  horns  and  whistles  with 
which  to  assist  in  proclaiming  the  fact  that  they  were 
champions  of  Merriwell. 

Frank  had  been  reintroduced  to  Lucy  Livingston 
by  the  wife  of  the  proprietor  of  the  Lake  View.  He 
found  her  a  much  prettier  girl  than  he  had  thought. 
She  seemed  to  have  recovered  entirely,  and  her  cheeks, 
which  had  been  so  white  when  he  saw  her  before, 


How  the  Challenge  Was  Received.    213 

glowed  with  health.  The  hair  that  had  seemed  a  lovely 
brown  even  when  wet  and  stringy,  was  now  a  very 
crown  of  glory.  She  was  dressed  becomingly  and 
wore  a  cool-looking  straw  hat  and  a  shirt-waist. 

"Our  first  meeting  was  under  rather  trying  circum- 
stances," she  confessed,  as  she  looked  out  at  Danny, 
amid  the  blare  of  the  horns,  the  impatient  rattle  of  bells 
and  the  talk  of  the  great  crowd.  "I  suppose  Delancy 
told  you  how  very  grateful  I  am  for  what  you  did? 
It  makes  me  shudder  to  think  what  would  have  hap 
pened  if  you  hadn't  been  there." 

"Don't  think  about  it,  then,"  Merriwell  suggested. 

"But  I  must  think  about  it.  And  I  want  to  tell  you 
again,  as  I  did  in  the  note  I  sent  by  Delancy,  that  I 
can  never  thank  you  enough." 

Frank  cleverly  evaded  the  necessity  of  informing 
her  that  he  had  never  received  the  note,  and  soon  they 
were  talking  as  gaily  and  unreservedly  as  if  they  had 
known  each  other  for  years,  instead  of  hours. 

Yet  there  was  nothing  bold  or  forward  in  the  man- 
ner of  Lucy  Livingston.  She  was  simply  a  girl  who 
was  deeply  conscious  of  the  obligation  she  was  under 
and  who  honestly  admitted  to  herself  that  she  liked 
Frank  Merriwell. 

"Merry  is  the  luckiest  dog  alive,"  grunted  Bruce, 
speaking  to  Hodge.  "Half  the  girls  he  meets  are  just 
cracked  over  him." 


214   How  the  Challenge  Was  Received. 

Hodge  grumbled  something  in  a  jealous  tone,  then 
added : 

"Think  I  should  be  myself,  if  I  were  a  girl." 

Frank  was  thinking  of  the  request  she  had  made 
on  behalf  of  her  father.  As  he  looked  at  her,  he  felt 
quite  sure  that  she  could  not  like  Herbert  Hammers- 
well  ;  yet  he  had  found  the  opinion  current  that  Ham- 
mersweH's  attentions  were  being  accepted  by  her,  and 
it  was  further  rumored  that  they  were  engaged.  He 
and  Delancy  were  nearly  always  together,  and  when 
Herbert  was  not  with  Delancy  he  was  with  Delancy's 
sister.  Frank  had  seen  her  walking  with  him  in  the 
grounds  of  the  hotel  and  on  the  borders  of  the  lake. 
The  whole  thing  was  strange  and  mystifying. 

"I'm  so  glad  that  you  challenged  those  Wabeek 
men  for  this  contest,"  said  Lucy.  "If  you  had  heard 
them  talk !  They  came  over  to  the  Lake  View  yester- 
day before  they  sent  the  baseball  challenge.  Your  men 
were  simply  an  aggregation,  a  group  of  monstrosities, 
freaks,  and  I  don't  know  what  else.  Some  of  them 
seemed  to  be  quite  decent,  but  the  others  were  so  loudly 
boastful -that  I  was  just  crazy  to  have  you  accept  their 
challenge.  Of  course,  you  will  win.  I  told  Delancy 
so,  and  that  he  must  not  bet  anything  on  the  other 
team." 

Merriwell  knew,  though,  that  both  Hammerswell 
and  young  Livingston  were  laying  bets  on  the  Wa- 


How  the  Challenge  Was  Received.   215 

beek  men.  The  crowd  was  cheering  Danny  as  he  pad- 
dled the  boat  around  by  kicking  out  with  his  feet. 

"Wee-e-e!"  he  yelled.  "If  you  want  to  see  a  fish 
go  through  the  water,  put  your  optics  on  me.  Don't 
cast  all  your  eyes  on  the  boat  at  once,  though,  for  the 
weight  of  them  might  sink  it.  It  wouldn't  hold  up 
more'n  a  ton  of  apples — or  eyes." 

Another  boat  pushed  out  from  the  shore.  In  the 
stern  sat  Allen  Ogle,  attired  like  Danny,  though  the 
colors  were  different  and  the  Yale  "Y"  was  not  on  his 
breast. 

"Honest"  Bill  Mattock,  the  proprietor  of  the  Twin 
Mountain  House,  was  the  starter,  and  he  now  stepped 
down  the  rocks  to  the  edge  of  the  lake,  pistol  in  hand. 

All  of  the  contests  were  to  be  for  points. 

"Ready!"  squealed  Danny. 

"Right  here,"  said  Ready,  lifting  his  cap. 

"I  mean,  I  am  ready.'* 

"Oh!" 

Bang! 

Mattock's  pistol  spoke,  and  the  crowd  began  to  yell 
as  Danny  and  Ogle,  paddling  solely  with  their  feet, 
which  they  were  forced  to  use  both  for  steering  and 
propulsion,  clumsily  attempted  to  drive  the  boats 
through  the  water  toward  the  line  stretched  from  shore 
to  anchor  boat,  a  score  of  yards  away. 

"Go  it,  Red-head!"  yelled  the  proprietor  of  the  Lake 
View.  "Ogle  is  beating  you!" 


2i6   How  the  Challenge  Was  Received. 

"If  you  call  me  names,  I'll  paddle  the  boat  across 
the  rocks  into  your  best  parlor !"  Danny  flung  back. 

His  bare  feet  and  legs  were  flashing  like  the  paddle- 
blades  of  a  stern-wheeler.  But  the  boat  made  little 
progress.  Indeed,  Olge  was  moving  slowly,  though  he 
was  distancing  Danny. 

Then  Danny  stretched  his  short  legs  farther  over 
the  stern,  and  the  boat  began  to  crawl  up  on  Ogle's. 
Faster  went  his  flying  legs.  Ogle's  boat  showed  a 
strange  disposition  to  turn  round,  for  his  right  leg  was 
much  stronger  than  his  left,  and  it  diverged  quite  a 
distance  from  the  direct  line  before  the  yells  of  a 
coacher  on  shore  drew  his  attention  to  it.  Before  he 
could  recover  what  he  had  thus  lost  Danny  was  even 
with  him. 

Danny's  feet  were  churning  the  water  at  a  wonderful 
rate,  and  he  was  gaining.  The  boys  on  the  rocks 
waved  their  flag  and  screeched  and  rattled  their  bells. 

But  the  Wabeek  men  had  many  friends.  Indeed,  the 
sympathy  of  full  half  the  people  seemed  to  be  with  the 
so-called  "University  Nine."  The  feeling  of  rivalry 
was  seen  to  be  intense.  Dimmick,  the  proprietor  of  the 
Wabeek,  with  all  of  his  friends  and  adherents,  were 
followers  of  Kirk  and  the  University  men,  chiefly  be- 
cause Merriwell's  party  had  left  the  Wabeek  and  set  up 
a  camp  in  the  woods.  On  the  other  hand,  the  people 
of  the  Lake  View,  a  rival  house,  were  wildly  enthu- 
siastic over  Merriwell's  team,  on  account  of  the  rescue 


How  the  Challenge  Was  Received.    217 

of  Lucy  Livingston.  The  boys  were  with  Merriwell 
because  he  was  Merriwell,  whom  they  knew  to  be  all 
that  a  manly,  vigorous  young  fellow  should  be. 

The  face  of  one  big  ledge  was  almost  covered  with 
Wabeek  adherents,  who  howled  and  laughed  whenever 
Ogle  was  ahead  and  groaned  when  he  fell  behind. 
Danny  was  two  yards  in  advance,  with  the  goal-line 
near,  when  his  boat  also  took  a  freak.  His  right  leg 
had  become  tired  and  was  weakened  in  consequence. 
Before  he  knew  it  his  boat  was  moving  off  at  a  tan- 
gent. 

Ogle  was  coming  more  rapidly  than  ever,  though 
his  speed  was  still  as  slow  as  that  of  a  man  who  tries 
to  walk  in  a  bag,  and  before  Danny  could  get  his  boat 
back  the  Wabeek  contestant  passed  him  and  crossed 
the  goal-line,  and  won. 

A  terrific  din  went  up  from  the  Wabeek  sympa- 
thizers. The  bells  and  horns  and  whistles  of  the  Mer- 
riwell boys  were  silent,  while  the  Wabeek  admirers 
laughed  and  whooped  until  they  made  the  rocks  re- 
sound. At  one  side,  on  a  prominent  projection,  Her- 
bert Hammerswell  and  Delancy  Livingston  stood  and 
swung  their  caps  in  delight.  Lucy  Livingston  saw 
them,  and  a  shade  of  pain  and  annoyance  passed  over 
her  face. 

"Two  points  for  the  Wabeeks,"  was  the  announce- 
ment. 

"A  bad  start  makes  a  good  ending,  I've  heard," 


2i 8    How  the  Challenge  Was  Received. 

Lucy  said  to  Merriwell.  "You  will  defeat  them,  I 
know,  even  if  you  did  lose  that." 

Danny  and  Ogle  began  to  paddle  back  again,  using 
oars  which  had  been  in  the  boats,  and  Merriwell,  ex- 
cusing himself,  hastened  toward  the  dressing-tents,  fol- 
lowed by  his  men.  Having  discovered  the  station  of 
Merriwell's  team,  the  boys,  with  their  flag,  came  across 
and  took  a  position  near. 

"That  wasn't  no  fair  deal,  anyway,"  one  of  them 
was  declaring.  "Danny's  legs  was  too  short  for  that. 
Wat  made  Merry  put  him  into  that?  Why  didn't 
he  take  that  long-legged  feller?" 

"Gamp?" 

"Yes;  why  didn't  he  take  him?" 

"Merriwell's  all  right,"  asserted  a  third.  "He's 
goin'  t'  do  these  things  up." 

When  Frank  appeared  he  was  accompanied  by 
eight  men,  making  a  total  of  nine,  counting  John 
Swiftwing,  the  Pueblo.  All  were  in  swimming-suits. 

Dunstan  Kirk  appeared  from  another  dressing-tent, 
also  with  eight  men.  Merriwell  had  asked  to  put 
the  Indian  into  the  contest,  and  Kirk  had  chosen  a 
powerful  woodsman  named  John  Jackson,  who  was 
noted  throughout  the  region  as  a  wonderful  swimmer 
and  diver,  and  was  to  contest  for  points  and  honors 
with  Swiftwing.  Jackson,  in  the  suit  which  had  been 
furnished  him,  was  a  noble  specimen  of  physical  man- 
hood. He  was  long  of  limb,  and  while  wonderfully 


How  the  Challenge  Was  Received.    219 

muscled,  was  not  gnarled  and  knotted  in  development, 
as  was  Ben  Romine.  Danny  and  Allen  Ogle  were  not 
to  take  part  in  the  contest  now  about  to  take  place, 
for  it  was  presumed  that  they  would  be  too  tired  to  be 
of  much  use  to  either  team. 

"A  swimming  tug-of-war,"  announced  Mattock,  as 
the  contesting  teams  entered  the  water,  and  he  walked 
down  the  rocks  with  his  pistol. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

WATER     SPORTS. 

"I  want  you  to  watch  John  Jackson,"  Swiftwing 
whispered  to  Merriwell.  "He  will  injure  me  if  he  can. 
We  had  a  quarrel  last  year  over  a  party  that  each  of 
us  wanted  to  take  into  the  woods,  and  he  afterward 
tried  to  hit  me  with  a  club  on  account  of  it.  All 
the  bad  men  are  not  Indians." 

Merriwell  flashed  a  glance  at  the  muscular  young 
woodsman,  and  saw  him  give  Swiftwing  a  look  of 
deadly  hate.  Then  he  saw  Herbert  Hammerswell 
wildly  cheering  Jackson. 

"There  is  some  understanding  between  those  two 
rascals,"  was  his  conclusion.  "It  wouldn't  surprise 
me  to  learn  that  Hammerswell  has  influenced  Kirk 
in  some  way  to  put  Jackson  on  the  team.  If  he  at- 
tempts to  do  dirt  to  Swiftwing,  he  will  get  hurt." 

A  long  cable  was  being  taken  out  in  a  boat.  Round 
the  middle  of  it  was  tied  a  white  cloth.  This  cloth 
was  to  be  placed  directly  under  the  starting-line,  and 
the  two  teams  were  to  pull  against  each  other  on  the 
cable  until  one  or  the  other  was  pulled  across  the  start- 
ing-line. The  contest  was  much  the  same  as  a  boat 
tug-of-war,  except  that  the  pulling  was  to  be  done 
by  swimmers  instead  of  boats. 


Water  Sports.  221 

As  the  teams  waded  and  swam  out  to  their  places, 
Merriwell  drew  near  to  Dunstan  Kirk. 

"Where  did  you  pick  up  Jackson  ?"  he  asked.  "He 
is  a  powerful  fellow." 

"Better  than  your  Indian,  I  think.  Hammersweli 
recommended  him  to  the  proprietor  of  the  Wabeek. 
But  I  took  him  on  my  own  judgment,  after  I  had  seen 
him.  He  is  a  wonderful  swimmer,  they  say,  and  any 
one  can  see  that  he's  as  strong  as  a  moose.  If  he 
don't  put  it  all  over  your  Indian,  I  miss  my  guess." 

"A  splendidly  muscled  fellow,"  Merriwell  admitted. 
"But  I  am  willing  to  put  Swiftwing  against  him." 

He  had  satisfied  himself  that  his  guess  was  true. 
Hammersweli  had  been  instrumental  in  getting  Jack- 
son placed  on  the  Wabeek  team,  and  between  them 
there  was  some  under-handed  understanding. 

"I'll  just  keep  my  eye  on  the  fellow,"  Frank  thought, 
as  he  swam  easily  along  at  the  head  of  his  men. 

By  the  time  the  swimmers  were  in  their  places  on 
each  side  of  the  starting-line  the  cable  was  in  posi- 
tion. Not  all  of  the  men  of  both  teams  were  good 
swimmers.  Merriwell  had  some  fine  swimmers,  of 
which  he  was  Himself  the  best,  and  some  poor  ones, 
of  which  Greg  Carker  was,  perhaps,  the  poorest.  Ma- 
son, of  Brown,  was  about  as  poor  as  Carker,  and  al- 
together the  teams  seemed  very  evenly  matched.  The 
best  swimmer  of  the  Athletic  Team,  next  to  Merri- 
well, was  John  Swiftwing,  the  Pueblo. 


222  Water  Sports. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Merriwell?"  one  of  tHe 
boys  yelled  in  a  shrill  voice. 

And  immediately  the  roar  went  up  from  a  hundred 
throats : 

"He's  all  right." 

As  the  swimmers  had  hold  of  the  rope  in  readiness 
for  the  signal,  Merriwell  looked  shoreward.  Lucy 
Livingston  was  seated  in  the  midst  of  a  group  of 
young  women  and  girls,  who  seemed  to  be  chaperoned 
by  the  wife  of  the  Lake  View  proprietor.  The  group 
caught  that  shoreward  glance,  and  an  answering  flut- 
ter of  white  handkerchiefs  made  Frank  think  of  a 
bower  of  white  blossoms  swayed  by  a  fitful  breeze. 
He  lifted  a  hand  in  acknowledgment. 

"All  the  girls  in  the  Great  North  Woods  will  be 
stuck  on  Merriwell  soon,"  grunted  Bruce. 

"I  should  think  it  would  be  Bart,"  whispered  Ready, 
who  was  near  the  big  fellow. 

"Why?" 

"He's  the  catcher,  you  know." 

Bang! 

Mattock's  pistol  flashed,  and  the  tug-of-war  was 
on.  At  the  first  surge  the  powerful  pull  of  John  Jack- 
son drew  the  white  line  toward  the  Wabeek  side  more 
than  a  foot.  But  Swiftwing  drew  it  back.  Then  the 
battle  began. 

As  there  were  nine  men  pulling  in  each  team,  four 
were  on  each  side  of  the  rope,  with  the  captains  in  the 


Water  Sports.  223 

lead  at  the  ends.  Kirk  was  a  splendid  swimmer,  so 
that  in  arranging  for  the  disposition  of  the  men  he 
had  been  perfectly  willing  to  take  the  lead  at  the  end 
of  his  half  of  the  rope,  in  opposition  to  Merriwell. 
The  other  swimmers  were  disposed  to  suit  the  notions 
of  the  captains,  Merriwell  had  put  Swiftwing  next  the 
starting-line,  and  Kirk  had  balanced  Swiftwing  with 
John  Jackson  on  the  opposite  side.  The  man  next 
Swiftwing  on  Merry's  team,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
rope,  was  Bruce  Browning,  who  could  pull  in  the  water 
like  a  team  of  horses.  The  men  next,  on  opposite  sides 
of  the  rope,  were  Hodge  and  Rattleton.  Then  came 
Ready  and  Gamp,  Stubbs  and  Carker,  and  Merriwell 
in  the  lead.  Curringer  was  pulling  with  Jackson, 
against  Browning  and  Swiftwing. 

"Pull,  fellows !  Pull  'em  out  of  the  lake !"  shouted 
Danny,  who  stood  on  the  shore,  coaching  and  en- 
couraging. 

"Get  'em  back  again!  Get  'em  back!"  yelled  Allen 
Ogle  to  the  Wabeek  men.  "You  can  do  it!  There, 
you're  coming!  Get  'em  back!" 

Only  one  hand  could  be  used  in  swimming,  as  the 
other  was  on  the  rope.  The  white  line  was  again 
moving  to  the  Wabeek  side.  It  crossed  the  line.  One 
yard — two  yards.  The  Wabeek  adherents  began  to 
yell. 

"Now  you're  hitting  them!"  yelled  Ogle.  "Keep 
'em  coming!" 


224  Water  Sports. 

"Take  a  brace !"  Danny  screeched.  "Get  a  move  on 
you,  you  snails!" 

Swiftwing  said  something  to  Browning.  Then  the 
two  together  made  a  mighty  effort,  and  the  white  line 
moved  back. 

"All  together,  now!"  called  Merriwell,  also  putting 
forth  all  his  tremendous  strength.  Carker  and  Bink 
were  growing  weak.  They  were  not  equal  to  any 
very  long  strain  in  the  water.  But  Kirk's  poorest 
swimmers  were  likewise  growing  weak.  The  line  con- 
tinued to  move  toward  Merriwell's  side.  The  boys 
waved  their  flag  and  screeched  and  made  a  furious 
clamor  with  bells  and  horns,  while  the  white  handker- 
chiefs of  the  girls  grouped  around  Lucy  Livingston 
fluttered. 

Suddenly  John  Jackson,  who  seemed  already  to  be 
exerting  the  strength  of  ten  men,  roused  himself  for 
a  final  and  mighty  effort. 

"Pull!"  he  sputtered,  blowing  back  the  waves  from 
his  mouth  in  a  spray.  "Every  tiger  of  you,  pull! 
Now!" 

The  white  line  jumped  back  a  foot.  It  again  crossed 
the  starting-line. 

"Pull!"  cried  Jackson.    "Pull,  ye  terriers,  pull!" 

He  did  not  waste  further  breath,  for  breath  was 
precious,  but,  swimming  low  and  deep,  sweeping  the 
water  backward  with  his  free  hand,  he  seemed  to  have 
the  strength  and  power  of  a  small  tug.  In  spite  of 


Water  Sports.  225 

everything  that  Browning  and  Swiftwing  could  do, 
aided  by  the  others,  the  white  line  moved  toward  the 
Wabeek  side. 

The  Wabeek  sympathizers  were  roaring.  Once 
more  Merriwell,  Browning,  and  Swiftwing — the 
strongest  swimmers  in  Merry's  team — gathered  them- 
selves, and  for  a  moment  stopped  the  progress  of  the 
white  line;  but  only  for  a  moment.  Jackson  threw 
himself  forward  like  a  sea-horse,  and  again  the  white 
line  moved  to  the  Wabeek  side. 

It  was  really  a  splendid  exhibition  for  those  on 
shore — the  powerful  strokes  and  tremendous  strength 
of  Jackson,  the  young  giant  of  the  North  Woods.  He 
was  simply  a  wonder  in  such  a  contest. 

The  Wabeek  men  on  the  ledges  stood  up  and  roared 
again  and  again  as  the  cable  was  drawn  to  the  Wa- 
beek side  and  Kirk's  team  won. 

"Ten  points  for  the  Wabeeks,"  was  the  announce- 
ment. "Total  for  the  Wabeeks,  twelve  points." 

"And  we  haven't  a  thing,"  said  Lucy  Livingston  to 
the  bevy  of  pretty  girls  about  her.  "Not  a  thing.  I 
feel  sorry  for  Merriwell." 

The  big  "Y"  flag  was  trailing  in  the  dust,  the  horns 
and  the  bells  were  still  and  the  boys  on  the  slope  did 
not  utter  a  word,  but  the  Wabeek  sympathizers — they 
seemed  to  want  to  pull  the  sky  down. 

One  little  fellow,  who  had  been  glumly  sitting  with 


226  Water  Sports. 

his  chin  in  his  hands  and  his  hands  on  his  knees,  finally 
lifted  his  head  and  called  to  the  roarers : 

"Merriwell's  all  right,  and  don't  ye  fergit  it!  He 
couldn't  do  the  whole  thing  by  hisself!" 

After  a  long  rest,  Browning  and  Jackson  came  from 
their  tents  in  swimming-suits.  The  other  members  of 
the  teams  had  temporarily  donned  their  usual  clothing. 

As  Jackson  and  Browning  walked  toward  the  water, 
side  by  side,  a  comparison  of  the  men  was  easy.  Both 
men  were  about  the  same  age.  Browning  was  a  bit 
fleshier  and  his  skin  was  whiter.  Jackson  looked  to  be 
more  powerful  about  the  shoulders.  The  greatest 
contrast,  however,  was  in  the  faces  of  the  two  men. 
Bruce's  features  had  a  placid,  easy,  even  lazy  look. 
Jackson's  face  was  hard  and  stern. 

"As  a  man,  Bruce  is  worth  a  hundred  of  him,"  Mer- 
riwell  thought. 

The  clamor  on  the  shore  and  on  the  ledges  again 
rose,  and  the  boys  ceased  to  grumble  and  argue.  Mer- 
riwell  and  some  friends  walked  down  on  a  point  of 
rocks,  as  did  Kirk  and  other  members  of  the  Wabeek 
nine.  From  this  point  a  good  view  could  be  had  of  the 
water,  which  at  that  point  was  crystal-clear.  The 
rocks  and  sand  showed  plainly. 

A  boat  well  laden  with  stones  was  towed  out  by 
another  boat  and  sunk.  It  lay  in  the  crystal-clear 
water,  eight  or  ten  feet  below  the  surface,  and  plainly 
visible  to  large  numbers  of  the  spectators. 


Water  Sports.  227 

"A  novel  test,"  Mattock  announced.  "The  one  who 
gets  that  boat  to  the  surface  in  the  shortest  time  will 
win  five  points.  He  may  do  it  in  his  own  way." 

There  was  a  scampering  for  better  viewpoints,  and 
some  men  climbed  a  rocky  pinnacle  that  looked  sheer 
down  into  the  water. 

Browning  and  Jackson  stood  together  at  the  water's 
edge. 

"Are  you  ready,  Jackson  ?"  called  Mattock. 

Jackson  bent  forward  and  nodded.  The  pistol 
spoke,  and  he  dived  instantly.  He  could  be  seen  when 
under  the  water  almost  as  plainly  as  when  on  shore. 
He  first  tried  to  lift  the  boat,  then  began  to  take  out 
the  stones.  He  worked  with  lightning  speed,  for  it  is 
impossible  for  any  one  to  remain  long  under  water, 
especially  when  exerting  himself.  He  lifted  again, 
and  brought  the  boat  to  the  surface. 

"Ten  seconds!"  said  Mattock. 

The  same  stones  were  then  laboriously  fished  up  and 
heaped  in  the  boat,  which  was  sunk  again  on  the  same 
spot.  A  hundred  watches  were  now  out  and  necks 
were  being  strained. 

"Can't  be  done  in  quicker  time  than  that,"  Ham- 
merswell  was  heard  to  say. 

"Aw!  that  was  deuced  speedy,  don't  you  know," 
drawled  Delancy.  Merriwell  looked  up  and  saw  that 
both  were  on  the  rocky  point,  almost  above  his  head. 
'Hammerswell  gave  him  a  look  of  defiant  hate. 


228  Water  Sports. 

"Are  you  ready,  Browning?"  Mattock  asked,  hold- 
ing his  watch  in  one  hand  and  the  pistol  in  the  other. 

"Ready!"  said  Bruce. 

Bang! 

Bruce  dived  like  a  fish.  He  did  not  stop  to  remove 
a  single  stone;  but,  bending  over  the  boat,  he  swung 
upward  with  all  his  mighty  strength,  and  the  boat  caine 
to  the  surface. 

"Five  seconds!"  said  Mattock,  in  a  tone  of  amaze- 
ment. 

The  friends  of  MerriweH's  team  felt  that  their  time 
had  come  at  last.  They  simply  howled.  The  boys 
waved  the  big  "Y"  flag  and  screeched,  and  then  added 
to  the  universal  din  by  tooting  the  horns  and  whistles 
and  ringing  the  bells. 

"Hurrah  for  Browning!"  yelled  Rattleton,  swinging 
his  cap. 

Again  the  yell  broke  out. 

"Man,  what  are  your  muscles  made  of?"  Mattock 
asked,  clearly  showing  his  surprise. 

"Meat,"  drawled  Bruce,  as  he  came  dripping  to  the 
shore. 

And  no  one  was  more  astonished  than  John  Jack- 
son. He  had  felt  that  he  could  beat  Bruce  at  any 
feat  of  strength,  simply  because  he  seemed  to  outpull 
him  in  the  water. 

"Five  points  for  the  Merriwells,"  Mattock  an- 
nounced. 


Water  Sports.  229 

"Five  points.  Oh,  we're  coming  up!"  said  Carker. 
"If  we  had  seven  more  we'd  be  even-Steven !" 

"I  wonder  how  many  points  they'd  give  me  if  I'd 
lift  that  boat  ?"  Bink  swaggeringly  asked. 

"A  million,"  said  Merriwell. 

"Then  I  guess  I'll  lift  it  and  win  the  game.  Have 
them  sink  it  again  for  me,  will  you?" 

After  a  rest,  Swiftwing  and  Jackson  came  from  the 
dressing-tents  ready  to  engage  in  another  contest. 
The  wind  had  begun  to  blow  in  fitful  gusts  and  storm- 
clouds  had  appeared.  One  cloud  in  the  southwest  be- 
gan to  look  dark  and  threatening.  Merriwell  studied 
it  anxiously. 

"I'm  afraid  we're  not  to  finish  these  contests,"  he 
said,  speaking  to  Kirk. 

"I've  been  noticing  that  cloud  for  some  time,"  re- 
plied Kirk.  "I  don't  believe  we  can  get  through. 
There  may  be  time,  though.  If  not,  we'll  have  to  call 
the  thing  off." 

"No  need  of  that.  We'll  simply  finish  them  in  the 
morning." 

Hammerswell  was  near.  He  heard  the  words  with 
wild  joy.  He  had  seen  the  clouds  and  he  had  talked 
with  John  Jackson. 

"Oh,  if  it  will  only  go  over  till  to-morrow!"  he 
grated.  "I  haven't  been  able  to  do  a  thing  to-day. 
Neither  has  Jackson.  We're  too  closely  watched.  But 
if  the  diving:  goes  over  until  to-morrow!  I  wouldn't; 


230  Water  Sports. 

have  thought  of  it  but  for  Jackson  and  the  thing  Mer- 
riwell  said  awhile  ago  to  Kirk.  If  the  thing  goes 
over  till  to-morrow,  I  can  fix  Merriwell." 

His  face  had  so  vindicative  a  look  that  he  turned 
it  from  the  crowds  and  stared  out  over  the  water,  with- 
out seeing  anything,  however,  but  merely  to  conceal 
that  look.  A  boat  had  been  anchored  two  hundred 
yards  out  in  the  lake.  Swiftwing  and  Jackson  were 
rowed  out  to  this  boat,  which  they  entered.  Then 
each  stood  on  a  thwart,  facing  toward  the  shore. 

"A  swimming-race  between  Swiftwing  and  Jack- 
son!" Mattock  announced.  "They  will  swim  from 
the  boat  to  this  line  drawn  between  these  two  boats 
here  by  the  shore,  the  first  passing  under  the  line  to 
win  ten  points." 

Then  he  stood  up,  and,  facing  toward  the  boat,  lifted 
his  pistol.  The  moment  the  pistol  flashed  the  swim- 
mers sprang  into  the  water.  Jackson  came  up  farther 
from  the  boat  than  the  Pueblo,  and  began  to  swim 
shoreward  with  a  powerful,  steady  stroke.  He  seemed 
to  go  through  the  water  like  an  amphibious  creature. 
But  Swiftwing  was  soon  close  at  his  heels,  perhaps  two 
yards  behind  him,  not  more. 

The  Wabeek  men  began  to  shout  again.  They 
were  sure  of  Jackson's  swimming  abilities,  after  the 
exhibition  he  had  given.  But  their  shouting  seemed 
premature.  Swiftwing  began  slowly  to  gain  on  his 
competitor.  When  fifty  yards  had  been  covered  his 


Water  Sports. 

head  was  at  Jackson's  shoulders.  At  the  half-way 
point  he  passed  Jackson.  At  the  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
yard  point  more  than  half  his  body  was  ahead  of  Jack- 
son. 

Then  he  was  seen  to  give  a  sudden  flounce  and  to 
lose  headway.  Jackson  spurted  on.  Swiftwing  tried 
to  recover  the  lost  distance,  but  could  not,  and  Jack- 
son came  in  winner. 

"The  Wabeeks  ten  points — twenty-two  in  all!"  was 
the  announcement. 

While  the  cheering  was  at  its  height  Merriwell 
stepped  toward  Swiftwing.  He  knew  that  something 
treacherous  had  happened.  And  as  Swiftwing  came 
out  of  the  water  his  right  leg  was  seen  to  be  bleeding. 

"He  stabbed  me!"  he  hissed. 

Jackson  heard  the  words  and  turned  back. 

"What's  that  ?"  he  demanded,  with  a  fierce  scowl. 

"You  struck  me  with  a  knife,"  said  Swiftwing. 

"Let's  be  sure  of  it,"  Merry  advised,  and  Swift- 
wing,  crushing  down  his  heart  of  fire  with  Indian 
stolidity,  walked  composedly  to  the  dressing-tent. 

A  shallow  gash  an  inch  long  was  seen  in  his  leg, 
below  the  knee. 

Kirk  hastened  to  the  tent. 

"Jackson  says  that  he  did  not  touch  Swiftwing," 
he  declared.  "Swiftwing  must  have  struck  something 
— a  piece  of  drift,  perhaps.  Such  a  thing  could  easily 
happen." 


232  Water  Sports. 

He  was  anxious  not  to  lose  the  ten  points,  but  still 
did  not  wish  them  if  gained  unfairly.  Merriwell 
looked  again  at  the  cut.  He  saw  how  difficult  it  would 
be  to  prove  that  it  had  been  made  with  a  knife.  Still, 
he  had  been  expecting  treachery  from  Jackson  ever 
since  he  knew  that  Hammerswell  had  been  instru- 
mental in  getting  the  woodsman  on  the  Wabeek  team. 

"I  shall  find  out  the  truth  of  this,"  he  quietly  said. 
"Tell  Jackson  so,  will  you.  Any  man  who  strikes  at 
one  of  my  men  strikes  at  me.  This  is  my  quarrel  just 
as  much  as  it  is  Swiftwing's.  Tell  Jackson  so,  and  tell 
him  that  there  will  be  a  settlement  with  him,  just  as 
sure  as  I  find  that  he  is  guilty." 

The  thunder  bellowed.  The  storm  was  coming,  and 
the  spectators  began  hurriedly  to  leave  the  grounds. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A      MURDEROUS      PLOT* 

The  proprietor  of  the  Lake  View  gave  a  suppef 
that  night,  to  which  the  members  of  Merriwell's  Ath- 
letic Team  were  invited.  Lucy  Livingston  was  there, 
of  course,  and  Frank  found  an  opportunity  to  engage 
her  in  conversation.  She  seemed  as  happy  as  a  re- 
leased bird.  Her  bright  eyes  sparkled,  her  laugh 
was  infectious,  and  she  was  altogether  charming. 

"You  can't  imagine  what  makes  me  so  happy  to- 
night?" she  queried. 

"Because  the  Wabeek  men  beat  us  on  points  to-day, 
I  suppose,"  was  his  roguish  answer. 

"They  will  not  beat  you  to-morrow.  You  can  beat 
them  yet !" 

"If  we  win  everything.  There  are  only  two  things 
more :  another  swimming-match  and  the  high  dive." 

"I  have  been  made  happy  by  a  letter  I  received  this 
evening  from  father." 

"I  remember  -that  you  mentioned  your  father." 

"And  you  remember  that  I  asked  you  not  to  punish 
Herbert  Hammerswell,  for  my  father's  sake.  You 
thought  it  a  queer  request,  and  it  was.  But  it  wasn't 
a  mere  whim.  Father  has  been  telling  me  for  some 
time  that  he  has  been  under  great  financial  obligations 


234  A  Murderous  Plot. 

to  Mr.  Hammerswell,  and  that  he  wished  me  to  treat 
him  nicely  and  do  all  that  I  could  to  make  matters 
pleasant  for  him.  I  have  done  so,  though  I  have  hated 
the  very  sight  of  him." 

"I  thought  you  were  engaged  to  be  married  to 
him,"  Frank  teasingly  quizzed. 

"Well,  I  wasn't.  Though  it  wasn't  his  fault.  But 
about  that  letter.  Father  has  been  threatened  with  a 
mortgage  which  Hammerswell  held,  and  instead  of 
being  under  obligations  to  him,  as  he  told  me,  he  was 
simply  afraid  of  him.  That  debt  has  been  paid;  and 
now  I  can  be  myself  again,  regardless  of  Herbert 
Hammerswell !" 

"So  that  is  the  solution  of  the  riddle?" 

"Very  simple,  isn't  it  ?  But  it  has  lifted  a  mountain 
for  me.  If  I  can  only  get  Delancy  to  give  up  his 
company,  now!" 

"Which  you  never  can,"  Merriwell  thought,  "for 
he  is  another  rascal  like  Hammerswell !" 

The  proof  of  this  was  being  furnished  at  that  mo- 
ment, though  neither  of  the  speakers  dreamed  so. 
Hammerswell  and  Delancy  had  early  withdrawn  from 
the  company  gathered  at  the  Lake  View.  The  storm 
had  passed,  and  they  were  out  on  the  lake-shore. 
With  them  were  two  other  men,  one  of  whom  was 
John  Jackson.  The  other  was  a  drunken,  disreputable 
fellow  named  Pike  Conner.  Hammerswell  and  Liv- 
ingston had  never  met  Conner  before,  and  that  he 


A  Murderous  Plot.  235 

might  not  recognize  them  should  he  meet  with  them 
again  they  talked  in  thickened  voices  and  wore  masks 
made  of  handkerchiefs. 

The  strength  of  four  men  was  necessary  to  per- 
form the  black  deed  contemplated,  and  Hammerswell 
had  liberally  paid  Jackson  for  his  services  and  for 
the  services  of  another  safe  man  he  was  to  bring  with 
him.  This  "safe"  man  was  Conner. 

"Right  here  is  where  Merriwell  will  make  his  great 
dive !"  said  Hammerswell,  not  able  to  conceal  the  sneer 
of  hate.  "He  will  dive  from  the  top  of  that  high  bluff 
into  this  deep  water.  I  heard  him  talking  about  ifc 
this  afternoon;  and  this  evening  when  he  came  out 
here  to  locate  the  place  with  that  Indian  I  sneaked 
after  him  and  heard  what  they  said." 

"And  that  redskin  thinks  I  jabbed  a  knife  into  his 
leg!"  growled  Jackson.  "He  cut  his  leg  with  some- 
thin',  and  then  tried  to  lay  it  onto  me  to  explain  how 
he  got  beat.  I'll  beat  his  head  in !" 

"Perhaps  you  did  cut  it?"  suggested  Hammerswell. 

"Less  talk  of  that  kind  you  git  off  the  better  fer  you 
and  this  business !"  warned  Jackson. 

Hammerswell  collapsed  like  a  closing  jack-knife. 

"The  hole  is  right  here.  I've  been  here  before,  and 
it's  so  deep  and  dark  that  no  one  can  see  anything  on 
the  bottom.  Now  where  is  that  stump?" 

For  answer,  Jackson  led  the  way  a  short  distance 


236  A  Murderous  Plot. 

along  the  shore  and  pointed  out  a  tree  stump  that  was 
almost  wholly  submerged. 

"It's  water-soaked  and  heavy  as  iron,"  he  said. 
"When  it  goes  down  it  will  stay.  We'll  have  to  carry 
it  there,  and  through  the  water,  too,  so's  not  to  leave 
any  sign.  Take  hold,  there,  Conner." 

Conner  took  hold,  as  did  Hammerswell  and  De- 
lancy  Livingston,  though  the  latter  grumbled  through 
his  mask  that  he  did  not  like  to  get  all  wet  and  muddy. 

"Take  holt,  all  o'  ye!"  Jackson  snarled.  "Conner 
and  me  can't  do  all  the  lifting." 

The  soaked  tree  trunk  was  a  heavy  load  for  them, 
but  after  much  struggling  and  straining  they  moved 
it  across  the  intervening  space  and  succeeded  in  sinking 
it  in  the  spot  which  Herbert  had  pointed  out. 

"That's  O.  K. !"  he  gleefully  exclaimed,  when  the 
work  was  done.  "When  Frank  Merriwell  makes  that 
high  dive  he  will  go  smash  into  that!" 

Even  Jackson  seemed  to  shudder  at  the  cold-blood- 
edness of  the  plot  against  Merriwell. 

"I  wouldn't  go  down  there  for  a  hundred  dollars! 
Ain't  no  one  else  li'ble  to,  I  s'pose  ?" 

"Not  unless  it's  the  Indian." 

"I'd  give  a  million  dollars,  if  I  had  it,  if  he  would !" 
snarled  Jackson. 

"If  they  should  want  some  one  to  compete  against 
them,  I'll  pay  you  a  hundred  dollars  to  jump  off  there," 
said  Hammerswell.  "You  know  where  the  stump  is* 


A  Murderous  Plot  837 

an3  you  could  avoid  it.  That  would  draw  Merriwell 
on,  and  he  would  go  smash  into  it!" 

"I'll  do  it!"  Jackson  hoarsely  promised. 

Then  the  cowardly  quartet,  having  done  their  work, 
crept  away. 

The  crowd  was  not  so  great  the  next  morning,  but 
it  was  roaring  wild.  Frank  Merriwell  had  entered  a 
protest  against  the  swimming-race  won  by  Jackson; 
the  protest  had  been  allowed,  and  the  race  had  been 
swam  over.  And  it  was  handsomely  won  by  Swift- 
wing,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  his  leg  was  somewhat 
stiff  from  the  knife  cut  Jackskon  had  strenuously  de- 
nied that  he  had  struck  at  Swiftwing  with  a  knife,  but 
Merriwell  had  told  him  flatly  that  he  lied,  and  that 
the  knife  had  been  concealed  in  the  trunks  he  wore, 
and  Jackson's  manner  had  confirmed  Merriwell  in  the 
belief.  More  than  that,  Merriwell  intended  to  have 
Jackson  arrested  as  soon  as  the  contests  were  finished. 
With  this  race  to  the  credit  of  Merriwell's  team,  the 
score  was  now  fifteen  to  twelve  in  favor  of  the  Merri- 
wells. 

Then  Merriwell  went  in  and  won  the  swimming-race 
in  which  he  was  pitted  against  Dunstan  Kirk,  and  won 
it  more  handsomely  even  than  Swiftwing  had  won 
his.  The  score  became  twenty-five  to  twelve.  Danny; 
and  Bink  fairly  screamed  with  delight,  and  Rattle- 
ton's  tongue  became  so  twisted  he  could  hardly  talk, 
while  the  boyish  supporters  of  Merriwell  filled  the  air 


A  Murderous  Plot. 

with  such  deafening  braying  of  the  horns  that  all 
other  sounds  were  almost  drowned. 

The  last  thing  on  the  list  of  contests  was  the  high 
dive.  Hammerswell  chewed  his  tongue  in  a  very 
anguish  of  hate  and  mortification,  but,  with  fiendish 
gloating,  he  was  still  biding  his  time.  He  hated  Mer- 
riwell  that  morning  more  than  he  had  ever  hated 
him  before.  Lucy  Livingston  had  suddenly  changed 
in  her  manner,  now  treating  him  with  cold  disdain, 
and  he  attributed  this  change  to  Merriwell. 

"Wait  till  he  dives !  Wait  till  he  dives !"  he  mentally; 
panted. 

Hammerswell  came  to  Jackson. 

"I  have  just  heard  them  talking.  You  are  to  dive 
against  Swiftwing.  Merriwell  doesn't  want  Swift- 
flying  to  dive  from  that  highest  point.  He  says  it  is 
too  high.  I  want  you  to  insist  on  that  spot,  though, 
for  the  stump  is  there.  It  will  be  one  hundred  dol- 
lars  in  your  pocket  if  you  do.  Swiftwing  is  going  to 
back  out,  I  can  see,  and  Merriwell  will  be  the  one  to 
dive  against  you.  It's  working  round  to  that.  You 
will  know  where  to- leap  to  avoid  the  stump,  and  Mer- 
riwell will  dive  straight  into  it.  A  hundred  dollars  1" 

"Lift  it  a  little!"  said  Jackson  dubiously. 

Hammerswell  grew  desperate. 

"Two  hundred!"  he  whispered.  "Work  the  thing, 
and  I'll  give  you  two  hundred  1" 

"How  much  down?" 


A  Murderous  Plot  239 

They  were  in  a  place  secure  from  observation,  and 
Hammerswell  took  out  his  purse  and  gave  Jackson  a 
hundred  dollars. 

"There!  Go  for  the  other  hundred,  and  you  shall 
have  it!" 

"Correct !  I'll  git  it.  If  Swiftwing  dives,  I'll  have 
my  revenge,  and  if  Merriwell  dives  you'll  have  yours. 
I'll  make  'em  do  it." 

A  little  later  Dunstan  Kirk  came  to  Frank. 

"Jackson  insists  that  the  dive  be  made  from  the 
point  first  agreed  on." 

"All  right,"  Frank  answered.  "If  Swiftwing 
doesn't  care  to  try  it,  I  may  take  his  place  I  suppose?" 

"Yes;  any  of  your  men." 

"The  dive  will  be  made,  Kirk.  Tell  Jackson  to 
get  ready." 

The  points  to  be  given  for  the  high  dive  were 
twenty;  so  that,  as  the  score  now  stood,  the  winner  of 
the  high  dive  would  win  victory  for  his  team.  Not 
only  the  fact  of  diving  from  this  perilous  projection, 
but  the  manner  of  the  dive,  the  quickness  of  the  re- 
appearance out  of  the  water  and  other  things  were  to  i 
be  considered  by  the  judges  in  making  their  award. 

Merriwell  went  to  the  dressing-tents,  where  he 
found  Swiftwing  getting  ready. 

"I'll  make  the  dive,"  was  Swiftwing's  grim  declara- 
tion. "I  can  dive  from  any  point  that  Jackson  can.'* 


240  A  Murderous  Plot. 

"You're  a  courageous  fellow,  Swiftwing,  and  a  more 
beautiful  swimmer  never  went  through  water !" 

Then  Merriwell  went  into  another  tent  and  put  on 
his  swimming-suit,  to  be  ready  for  an  emergency,  or  to 
take  Swiftwing's  place  if  necessary.  When  he  came 
out  Kirk  appeared  from  another  tent  similarly  clad. 
The  four  swimmers,  accompanied  by  a  few  friends, 
proceeded  to  the  top  of  the  high,  rocky  bluff,  cheered 
by  their  sympathizers.  Out  in  the  lake  was  a  boat 
manned  by  skilful  hands,  ready  to  pick  up  any  diver 
who  should  show  signs  of  exhaustion  when  he  rose 
from  the  water.  Farther  out  was  a  small  lake  steamer, 
black  with  spectators. 

A  deathless  hush  fell  on  the  throng  when  the  divers 
came  out  into  view  on  the  top  of  the  bluff. 

"My  time  has  come!"  Hammerswell  was  panting. 
"I  know  Merriwell,  and  he  will  make  that  dive  sure. 
My  time  has  come!" 

Jackson,  who  was  to  dive  first,  walked  out  upon  the 
extreme  point  of  rock  and  looked  down  into  the  water. 
He  fancied  he  could  see  the  water-logged  stump,  with 
its  roots  thrust  upward  like  spears,  ready  to  impale 
him.  He  grew  sick  and  giddy.  The  thought  that  he 
might  make  a  miss  in  his  calculation,  or  that  a  current 
of  wind  might  strike  him  and  pull  him  aside  and  im- 
pale him  on  the  roots,  fairly  froze  the  blood  in  his 
veins.  His  head  became  giddy.  He  grew  blind,  and 
felt  as  if  he  were  about  to  pitch  from  the  bluff. 


A  Murderous  Plot.  241 

"I  can't  do  it!"  he  gasped,  reeling  back  from  the 
point.  "I  can't  do  it !" 

"You  insisted  on  this  place !"  said  Frank  sharply. 

"I  give  in.     I  can't  do  it!" 

Swiftwing  stepped  past  Merriwell  and  out  to  the 
point. 

"I  can  do  it!"  he  hissed,  giving  Jackson  a  look  of 
scorn  and  hate. 

Then,  before  Merriwell  could  interfere,  he  sprang 
into  the  air  and  shot  downward,  head  first,  with  his  ex- 
tended hands  thrust  out  before  in  diver  fashion.  He 
had  looked  like  a  brown  wood-god  as  he  stood  for 
that  brief  moment  on  the  bluff — handsome  as  a  Greek 
Apollo  in  form,  with  head  erect,  chest  expanded  and 
eyes  flashing,  the  thin  swimming-suit,  with  the  white 
"Y"  on  the  breast,  revealing  instead  of  hiding  his 
magnificent  form. 

When  he  shot  downward  he  looked  even  more  at- 
tractive, and  the  feat  was,  besides,  thrilling.  The 
throng  seemed  to  gasp  for  breath.  Carker,  below, 
coolly  leveled  his  camera  and  took  a  snap-shot  of  the 
swiftly  descending  figure — a  thing  almost  as  difficult 
as  to  take  a  picture  of  a  lightning  flash. 

Frank  Merriwell  was  on  the  extreme  point  of  the 
bluff  before  Swiftwing  struck  the  water.  He  saw  him 
disappear  without  a  splash,  cleanly  and  smoothly.  A 
prettier  dive  was  never  made.  Then  he  waited  for 
him  to  appear. 


242  A  Murderous  Plot 

But  Swiftwing  did  not  come  to  the  surface.  The 
moments  passed.  A  restless,  bellowing  sound  came 
ifrom  the  spectators,  who  were  standing  up  now,  lifted 
gs  if  by  some  invisible  power. 

"Something  is  wrong !"  Merriwell  whispered.  Then, 
Ivithout  a  moment's  hesitation,  he  put  his  hands  to- 
gether above  his  head,  leaped  from  the  bluff  head  first, 
and  sped  to  the  aid  of  Swiftwing. 

"Killed !  Killed !"  Hammerswell  was  gasping,  while 
his  face  was  ashy  white  and  his  heart  seemed  to  have 
stopped  beating. 

But  Frank  Merriwell,  feeling  that  Swiftwing  had 
struck  against  something,  had  leaped  to  one  side  to 
avoid  that  danger  spot.  He  went  into  the  water  with 
the  easy,  gliding  motion  of  a  downward-thrust  spear, 
and  the  spectators  again  grew  breathless.  They  felt 
that  some  terrible  tragedy  was  being  enacted  before 
them. 

As  soon  as  he  touched  bottom  Frank  swam  towar'd 
the  point  where  he  knew  Swiftwing  had  vanished.  His 
hands  came  in  contact  with  the  stump,  the  roots  of 
which  he  dimly  saw  straggling  out  before  him  like 
the  arms  of  an  octopus.  He  knew  that  deadly  treach- 
ery had  been  at  work.  He  had  previously  examined 
that  bottom,  and  no  stump  had  been  there.  He  ex- 
pected to  find  Swiftwing  dead.  Wedged  fast  amid  the 
Iroots,  he  found  Swiftwing. 

thejj    killed   you,    Swiftwing?1    was    his 


A  Murderous  Plot  243 

thought.  "This  is  the  work  of  Jackson!  I  ought  to 
have  had  this  place  inspected  this  morning.  This  is  my 
fault!" 

He  let  his  hands  slide  quickly  over  Swiftwing's  body, 
and  found  that  the  Pueblo's  head  and  shoulders  had 
been  driven  between  two  roots,  which  had  closed 
against  him  and  now  held  him  fast.  The  picture  of  the 
terrible  struggle  which  Swiftwing  had  probably  made 
rose  before  his  mental  vision.  Then  he  felt  Swift- 
wing's  form  quiver  under  his  fingers.  Swiftwing  was 
not  dead! 

Merriwell  began  to  work  with  savage  energy,  though 
without  undue  excitement.  Already  his  ears  were 
ringing  and  cracking,  and  the  pressure  on  his  lungs 
was  becoming  unbearable.  He  took  hold  of  the  clasp- 
ing roots  and  pulled.  They  gave,  but  did  not  break. 
The  pressure  on  his  lungs  grew  greater,  and  his  ears 
snapped  as  if  the  drums  were  collapsing.  His  head 
began  to  feel  queer. 

Again  he  pulled  and  surged.  His  lungs  felt  as  if 
they  were  bursting.  A  sense  of  giddiness  and  faintness 
was  taking  possession  of  him.  His  head  seemed  ready 
to  fly  open. 

"My  God !"  was  his  thought,  "I  must  save  him !  It 
was  all  my  fault!" 

The  realization  seemed  to  give  him  the  strength  of 
ten  men.  He  tore  the  roots  asunder,  pulled  the  body 
of  Swiftwing  from  their  embrace^  and,  with  the  Indian 


244  A  Murderous  Plot. 

in  his  arms,  gave  a  downward  kick  on  the  bottom  of 
the  lake  with  his  feet  and  shot  toward  the  surface. 


"A  thousand  dollars!"  grated  Jackson.  "A  thou- 
sand dollars  right  in  my  fist,  or  I  blow  the  whole  thing. 
Merriwell's  got  a  warrant  out  fer  me,  and  I'm  goin* 
into  the  woods.  But  I'll  tell  jist  what  you  had  to  do 
with  it  'fore  I  go,  if  you  don't  cough  up  the  dough !" 

He  was  speaking  to  Hammerswell  in  the  darkness 
back  of  the  Lake  View,  where  he  had  met  Hammers- 
well  to  receive  the  remainder  of  his  pay. 

"I  haven't  a  thousand!"  Hammerswell  begged, 
"And  no  one  was  killed,  anyway!  Merriwell  saved 
the  Indian  and  found  the  stump." 

"  'Course !  That's  why  I  slide.  A  thousand,  on 
the  whole  thing  goes  to  the  public.  I  ain't  got  no  time 
to  monkey.  I've  writ  a  letter  which  I'll  give  to  oc 
send  to  the  proprietor  of  the  Lake  View.  Here  it  is. 
Is  it  worth  a  thousand  dollars  to  you  ?" 

He  held  it  up,  and  Hammerswell  desperately  tried 
to  snatch  it. 

"No  ye  don't!" 

"Let  me  read  it !" 

"No  ye  don't!" 

"I  haven't  a  thousand  with  me." 

"All  right,  then !  It  goes  to  the  Lake  View  and  I'm 
off  for  the  woods !" 


A  Murderous  Plot.  245 

"Make  it  leas!" 

"A  thousand  er  nothin' !    And  no  time  to  monkey!" 

Herbert  Hammerswell  paid  it. 

******* 

"Whoop!"  howled  Bink,  turning  a  handspring  and 
then  standing  on  his  head.  "We  beat  'em  in  the  water 
sports,  and  to-morrow  we'll  knock  their  eyes  out  in 
that  ball-game!" 

"Sure!"  agreed  Rattleton.  "Can't  anything  beat 
MerriwdU" 


CHAPTER   XX. 

AT    THE   CAMP. 

"Hammerswell  made  those  fellows  hand  over  the 
cash,"  said  Greg  Carker,  speaking  to  Merriwell  and 
a  group  of  the  Athletic  Team,  who  sat  or  stood  in  front 
of  the  big  wall  tent  at  Merriwell's  camp  in  the  early 
morning  after  the  water-sports  contests.  "One  of 
them  swiped  it  off  the  table  when  he  s«Kv  they  were 
beaten  and  tried  to  run  with  it,  but  Hammerswell 
stopped  him.  I  didn't  think  he  had  the  sand." 

"Oh,  it  wasn't  Hammerswell !"  Hodge  contradicted. 
"He  hasn't  the  courage  of  a  rabbit  I  heard  it  was 
Delancy  Livingston." 

"Yes,  it  was  Delancy  who  made  them  cough  up  the 
dough,"  said  Danny. 

"He  and  Ham  will  knead  the  dough,  if  they  buck 
against  Merriwell  and  me!'  grandiloquently  declared 
Bink  Stubbs. 

"You've  got  putty  in  your  head!"  snapped  Danny, 
secretly  wishing  that  he  had  made  the  pun. 

"Who  were  they?"  Merriwell  asked. 

"Some  bloods  from  New  York,"  answered  Carker. 
"Hammerswell  and  Delancy  got  them  into  a  poker- 
game  at  Lake  View  and  skinned  them  out  of  an  aw- 


At  the  Camp.  247 

ful  roll.  I  don't  know  how  much,  but  the  report  is 
that  it  was  up  in  the  thousands." 

"When  the  'University  Nine'  comes  up  against  us 
this  afternoon  they'll  knead  the  dough  that  some  of 
them  are  again  betting!''  chirped  Ready. 

"They'll  wed  the  twine-press — I  mean  tread  the 
wine-press!"  crowed  Rattleton. 

"They'll  sweat  blood!"  grimly  declared  Browning. 

"I'd  agree  with  you,  if  Merry  was  going  to  pitch," 
said  Hodge.  "But  his  wrist  is  knocked  out.  With 
Swiftwing  in  the  box,  things  look  different." 

"Swiftwing  will  do,"  Frank  declared.  "I  have 
watched  him  closely  in  his  practise  work  since  he  came 
into  the  team.  He  can  pitch  pretty  well." 

"You  bet  he  can!"  squealed  Bink.  "We'll  just 
knock  the  eye  out  of  that  Wabeek  team !" 

The  picture  was  so  satisfying  that  Bink  exultantly 
turned  a  somersault  and  stood  on  his  head,  with  one 
foot  waving  triumphantly. 

"Talking  about  the  courage  of  a  rabbit,"  laughed 
Jack  Ready,  his  red-apple  cheeks  redder  from  the 
effects  of  his  morning  plunge  in  the  lake,  "Bink  makes 
me  think  of  a  festive  bunny  kicking  round  in  the  jubi- 
lant dawn." 

"Practising  for  acrobatic  work  as  sHort-stop,"  said 
Bink,  still  standing  on  his  head  and  flourishing  his 
foot  "This  is  the  way  I  shall  do  when  a  grass-cutting 


248  At  the  Camp. 

grounder  comes  my  way.  Simply  up-end  and  take  it 
in!  See?" 

"Take  it  in  with  your  open  mouth?"  asked  Brown- 
ing, who  was  lying  on  the  ground,  feeling  too  lazy 
to  stand  up  when  it  was  not  absolutely  necessary. 

"Any  old  way!"  squealed  Bink.  "It  doesn't  matter 
how  I  up-end  and  take  it  in,  if  I  take  it  in !" 

"All  your  brains  will  run  out  of  your  ears,  if  you 
try  to  make  stump  speeches  standing  on  your  head!" 
Carker  warned. 

"No  brains  to  run  out !"  Bruce  drawled. 

"Come  down,  Binkey,  dear!"  begged  Danny.  "We 
see  that  you  can  do  it! 

"You're  like  the  little  rabbit, 
Who  had  a  foolish  habit 

Of  standing  on  his  head  to  speak  a  piece> 
Till  his  teacher  said:  'Now,  Bunny, 
Such  conduct  isn't  funny, 

And  really  these  performances  must  cease!'" 

Bink  gave  his  leg  a  last  flourish  and  came  down. 

"Where  did  you  steal  that  from?"  he  demanded, 
sitting  up  and  looking  very  red  in  the  face. 

"Bunny,  you're  as  read  as  an  old  book!"  chirped 
Ready. 

"You  can't  claim  it/'  Danny  squeaked.  "I  stole  it 
from  a  man  who  had  brains." 

"I've  got  one  for  you,"  said  Bink,  his  eye  catching 
the  ghostly  white  face  of  the  moon  over  the  lake,  which 


At  the  'Camp.  249 

the  sunlight  had  not  yet  driven  into  obscurity.  "Why- 
does  the  man  in  the  moon  never  get  married  ?" 

"Oh,  that's  easy !  He  stays  up  so  late  that  no  sen- 
sible woman  will  have  him." 

"Sensible  has  nothing  to  do  with  it."1 

"Insensible  woman,  then!" 

"He  lul-looks  too  tut-tut-tarnal  sick  for  any  woman 
to  lul-like !"  stuttered  Joe  Gamp. 

"He's  too  much  of  a  high-roller,"  guessed  Jack 
Ready. 

"Wrong!    All  wrong!" 

"Then  tell  us,  Danny,  dear!"  drawled  Bruce. 

"He  only  makes  a  quarter  a  week,  and  he  gets  full 
every  month." 

"That's  enough  to  make  me  stand  on  my  head 
again!"  gasped  Bink.  "You  must  have  some  new, 
sharp  files  in  your  joke-shop.  Comic  newspaper-files, 
I  mean!" 

"Had  horse-radish  and  razors  for  my  breakfast/* 

"Horse-radish?" 

"Yes ;  it  was  sharp.    So  were  the  razors." 

"Kill  him!"  groaned  Bruce,  rolling  lazily  over  9n 
his  back.  "Fire  him  off  the  team." 

"You  fellows  seem  to  think  that  we'll  down  the 
Wabeeks  without  any  trouble  this  afternoon,"  said 
Hodge.  "I  don't.  It  isn't  going  to  be  a  little  bit 
easy.  Swiftwing  can't  pitch  with  Curringer.  I've 
watched  him,  too." 


250  At  the  Camp. 

"Oh,  you're  just  jealous  of  Swiftwing!"  Bruce 
drawled.  Whereupon  Hodge's  dark  face  grew  pur- 
plish-red. 

"Maybe  you  think  talk  like  that  is  pleasant,  but  it 
isn't.  It  makes  me  tired.  If  you  can't  say  anything 
with  sense,  I'll  thank  you  to  keep  still." 

"Always  when  you  jab  a  fellow  in  a  raw  spot  he 
squirms !" 

Hodge  was  on  the  verge  of  an  explosion.  Merri- 
well  gave  him  a  look  and  he  got  up  and  walked  fu- 
mingly  away. 

"You  oughtn't  dig  at  Hodge  that  way,  when  you 
know  how  touchy  he  is !" 

"Thunderation,  Merry!  Can't  the  fellow  take  a 
joke?  But  I  hit  dead  center.  His  actions  show  it/' 

"Well,  Lucy  is  pretty  enough  to  get  stuck  on,"  said 
Bink.  "I'd  get  stuck  on  her  myself,  if  she'd  only 
look  at  me." 

*  "Wouldn't  anybody  get  stuck  on  a  runt  like  you/* 
declared  Danny. 

"Brother,  give  me  a  cigarette!"  Bink  begged,  imi- 
tating the  manner  of  Lew  Veazie. 

Danny  gave  him  the  cigarette. 

"Do  you  suppose  that  Swiftwing  has  tumbled  in 
love  with  Lucy  Livingston?"  Carker  seriously  asked. 

"Do  you  suppose  that  Lucy  Livingston  has  tumbled 
in  love  with  Swiftwing?"  chirped  Ready. 


At  the  Camp.  251 

i 

"Well,  the  Indian  has  been  giving  her  some  mighty; 
soft  sheep's-eye  glances,"  Bink  asserted,  striking  a 
match  to  light  his  cigarette.  "And  if  she  isn't  in  love 
with  him,  then  looks  are  deceiving." 

"He  did  look  like  a  forest  king  yesterday,"  Ready 
averred.  "Did  you  ever  see  such  a  picture  as  he  made 
when  he  stood  on  top  of  the  bluff  before  making  the 
dive?  I  got  a  snap-shot  of  that." 

"And  while  making  the  dive?"  said  Carker.  "I  got 
a  snap-shot  of  that." 

"But  he's  an  Indian,"  said  Danny. 

"And  'all  the  good  Indians  are  dud-dud-dead  P " 
Gamp  quoted. 

Merriwell  arose  and  walked  after  Hodge.  He  had 
seen  what  was  fermenting  between  Bart  and  Swift- 
wing.  He  did  not  believe  that  Hodge  had  really  fallen 
in  love  with  Lucy  Livingston,  but  he  felt  that  he  could 
not  blame  him  if  he  had,  for  Lucy  was  an  uncommonly 
pretty  girl.  On  the  other  hand  the  girl's  evident  ad- 
miration for  John  Swiftwing,  the  handsome,  stalwart, 
almost  physically  prfect  Pueblo,  had  been  almost  un- 
disguised. At  first  her  fancy  had  been  for  Merriwell, 
but  Swiftwing's  performance  and  the  physical  perfec- 
tion he  exhibited  at  the  water-sports  contests  had  vron 
her  girlish  eye. 

"I  don't  know  as  I  can  blame  her,"  Frank  thought, 
as  he  walked  swiftly  on  in  the  direction  taken  by 


252  At  the  Camp. 

Bart.  "But  he  is  an  Indian.  He  is  educated,  it  is  true, 
and  dressed  like  a  white " 

He  sought  to  check  the  thought.  He  did  not  desire 
even  in  thought  to  wrong  the  Pueblo,  whom  he  liked 
and  admired.  Yet  he  could  not  forget  his  experiences 
with  Swiftwing  at  the  pueblo  of  Taos,  when  the  young 
redskin  had  been  smitten  by  the  beauty  of  Inza 
Burrage  and  had  carried  her  away  on  a  fleet  horse, 
(thinking  she  returned  his  love. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  should  be  sorry  if  Bart  should 
really  fall  in  love  with  Lucy  Livingston !"  he  thought. 
"There  isn't  any  girl  too  good  or  too  handsome  for 
Hodge,  even  if  he  is  quick-tempered  and  obstinate.  He 
is  true  as  steel.  Browning  ought  not  to  have  flung 
that  at  him.  He  has  taken  a  fancy  to  the  girl,  and,  of 
course,  all  the  fellows  see  it,  but  that's  not  the  way  to 
handle  Hodge.  I'm  afraid  there's  going  to  be  trouble 
between  him  and  Swiftwing.  It  would  be  just  like 
Bart  to  refuse  to  catch,  if  Swiftwing  pitches." 

The  ball-game  between  Merriwell's  Athletic  Team 
and  the  "University"  or  Wabeek  Nine  was  not  to  be 
called  until  two  o'clock,  but  long  before  that  hour 
people  began  to  arrive  on  the  grounds  at  the  Wabeek 
Hotel,  where  the  game  was  to  be  played.  Dimmick, 
the  proprietor,  was  an  up-to-date  man,  and  on  his 
grounds  there  was  a  small,  but  attractive  grand  stand 
and  bleachers  of  semi-rustic  work,  and  a  fence  to  keep 
the  spectators  from  crowding  the  diamond.  As  a  re- 


At  the  Camp. 

suit,  some  good  ball-playing  was  often  to  be  seen  at 
the  Wabeek,  which  had  become  rather  noted  as  the  ball- 
players' hotel. 

All  of  the  neighboring  hotels  sent  heavy  contingents 
of  spectators  that  day;  and  the  crowd  constantly  in- 
creased, until  it  was  seen  that  no  previous  contest  be- 
tween the  Athletic  Team  and  the  Wabeeks  had  ex- 
cited such  interest.  This  was  largely  due,  of  course, 
to  the  dramatic  incidents  of  the  water-sports  contests 
as  well  as  to  the  fact  that  the  people  now  knew  that  the 
playing  would  be  worth  going  a  long  distance  to  wit- 
ness. 

Shortly  after  noon  the  boys  from  the  Lake  View 
came  over  with  their  flag  showing  the  white  Y  on  a 
blue  field,  and  with  their  horns  and  bells  and  whistles, 
determined  to  make  a  lively  racket.  They  were  Mer- 
riwell  partisans,  and  they  were  joined  by  all  the  boys 
on  the  grounds,  including  even  those  from  the  Wa- 
beek Hotel. 

"We'll  whoop  'er  up  fer  Merry  this  afternoon,  and 
don't  yer  forget  it!"  Frank  heard  them  say,  as  he 
walked  past  them. 

"Say,  he  ain't  goin'  t'  pitch !"  one  of  them  gasped. 
"Heard  a  feller  tellin'  Mattock  so." 

"De  double-shoot's  bu'sted  his  wrist !"  said  another. 

They  looked  admiringly  after  Merriwell  as  he 
walked  on. 

"What's  that?". a  man  inquired. 


254  At  the  Camp. 

"Bu'sted  his  wrist  wid  de  double-shoot!"  explained 
the  boy.  "Wen  he  played  de  odder  game.  See?" 

"The  double-shoot?" 

The  boy  looked  at  him  in  amazement. 

"Ain't  ye  heard  nuttin'  'bout  Merriwell's  double- 
shoot?" 

"No!" 

"Huh!" 

Then  he  turned  to  the  boys. 

"He's  a  reg'lar  Rip  Van  Winkle.  Been  asleep  fer 
twenty  years.  Ain't  heerd  o'  Merriwell's  doubles 
shoot!" 

"Swiftwing's  goin'  t'  pitch.    There  he  comes !" 

Swift  wing  passed  and  flashed  a  glance  at  Lucy 
Livingston,  who  had  taken  a  seat  in  the  grand  stand. 
She  saw  the  look  and  flushed.  But  it  was  apparent 
that  she  was  not  sorry  to  attract  the  admiration  of  the 
Pueblo,  and  her  eyes  followed  him  admiringly  as  he 
•walked  over  to  Merriwell  and  began  to  talk  with  him. 

Bart  Hodge  had  come  back  with  Merriwell  after  a 
long  walk  in  the  woods,  ready  to  put  on  the  catcher's 
mask  and  do  his  level  best  against  the  Wabeeks,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  his  heart  was  seething  against 
the  Indian,  whose  face  he  had  a  wild  desire  to  ham- 
mer in. 

"It  will  grind  me  to  catch  for  him,  but  I'll  do  it !"  he 
had  promised  Merriwell. 

Still  the  crowd  grew,  until  it  seemed  impossible  that 


At  the  Camp.  255 

so  many  people  could  have  been  found  in  that  part  of 
the  Adirondacks,  even  though  it  was  a  popular  summer 
resort  section  of  the  Great  North  Woods.  Hammers- 
well  and  Delancy  Livingston  came  over,  and  also  took 
seats  in  the  grand  stand.  They  were  in  a  cheerful 
frame  of  mind,  for  they  had  not  only  won  a  big  amount 
of  money  in  the  poker-game  from  the  New  York 
bloods  but  they  were  confident  that  Merriwell's  team 
would  be  beaten. 

They  agreed  in  their  opinions  with  Kirk  and  others 
of  the  Wabeek  nine  that  the  first  game  had  been  won 
by  a  streak  of  pure  luck.  When  the  game  was  analyzed 
it  did  seem  so.  Until  the  very  last,  everything  was 
going  to  the  Wabeeks,  when  a  sudden  turn  brought 
Merry's  men  out  on  the  winning  side. 

Curringer,  of  Princeton,  the  Wabeek  pitcher,  was 
really  glad,  however,  that  he  did  not  have  to  meet 
Merriwell.  He  believed  that  the  previous  game  had 
been  won  by  dead  luck,  but  he  knew  that  Merriwell  was 
a  pitcher  of  undisputed  ability,  and  he  knew  nothing 
in  favor  of  the  ability  of  Swiftwing. 

"Oh,  that  Indian  will  be  dead  easy!"  he  had  de- 
clared to  Kirk. 

"We're  bound  to  do  them  this  time!"  Wadkins 
had  asserted,  in  supreme  confidence.  "Most  of  his  men 
are  nothing  but  lobsters.  Really,  I  am  surprised  that 
Merriwell  ever  took  such  a  crowd  with  him!" 

This  was  the  universal  opinion  of  the  Wabeek  men. 


2«>6  At  the  Camp. 

all  of  whom  were  members  of  college  nines  and  ball- 
players of  experience  and  ability.  They  did  not  see 
as  yet  that  Frank  Merriwell  had  the  rare  faculty  of 
fine  generalship  and  the  supreme  ability  to  take  in- 
congruous elements  and  melt  them  into  a  harmonious 
whole.  Without  this  ability  in  its  leader  Merriwell's 
Athletic  Team  would  have  been  a  weak  combination 
and  might  have  gone  to  pieces  in  short  order. 

The  preliminary  warming-up  practise  drew  cries 
of  admiration  from  the  spectators,  who  seemed  about 
equally  divided  in  sympathy  between  the  two  teams. 
The  work  of  John  Swiftwing  was  an  unknown  quan- 
tity, and  this,  with  the  fact  that  he  was  an  Indian,  drew 
to  him  a  great  deal  of  attention. 

In  this  practise  work  Frank  watched  him  closely,  en- 
deavoring to  strengthen  him  where  it  was  seen  to  be 
needed. 

At  two  o'clock  precisely,  with  the  lake  attractively 
ruffling  its  bosom,  under  the  bluest  of  summer  skies, 
with  the  weather  just  warm  enough  for  fine  ball-play- 
ing, the  game  between  the  Merriwells  and  the  Wa- 
beeks  was  called,  with  the  boys  waving  their  flag  and 
dinning  away  and  the  crowd  in  the  grand  stand  and 
on  the  grounds  buzzing  like  a  swarm  of  bees. 

"Here  is  where  we  do  you !"  laughed  Curringer,  as 
he  walked  toward  the  pitcher's  box,  speaking  to  Mer- 
jiwell,  who  was  on  his  way  to  the  benches. 

"Anything  to  bet  on  it?"  asked  Rattleton,  overhear- 


At  the  Camp.  257 

ing  the  boast.  "If  you  have,  grets  see  the  leen — let's 
see  the  green !" 

"That's  a  fool's  argument,"  snapped  Curringer.  "II 
a  fellow  offers  to  bet  a  lot  of  money,  that's  a  dead  sure 
sign  that  he  knows  all  about  it.  I'm  not  betting,  but 
I  wouldn't  be  afraid  to  bet  you  anything  you  can 
name." 

The  impatient  crowd  was  beginning  to  howl.  Cur- 
ringer  walked  on  toward  the  box,  for  the  Merriwells 
were  to  be  first  at  the  bat,  and  Gait,  of  Princeton,  the 
Wabeek  catcher,  stepped  behind  the  home  plate.  The 
basemen  and  fielders  took  their  positions.  The  horns 
ceased  and  the  crowd  become  silent  in  anxious  ex* 
pectation. 

"Play  ball !"  said  the  umpire. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

SOME    GOOD    WORK. 

In  spite  of  their  boasts,  the  Athletic  Team  was  not 
as  confident  as  if  Frank  Merriwell  had  been  the  pitcher. 
Swiftwing  could  pitch,  no  doubt,  but  he  was  not  Mer- 
riwell. Bart  Hodge  was  glum  and  sore  and  filled  with 
forebodings. 

"If  only  you  were  going  into  the  box,  Merry,  I'd 
know  we  could  win!"  he  had  said,  speaking  to  Frank 
just  before  Frank  took  his  seat  on  the  benches.  "As 
it  is,  I'm  not  so  sure.  But,  of  course,  you  can't,  with 
your  wrist  in  that  awful  shape!  But  it's  a  terrible 
handicap.  Still,  I'll  do  my  best.  I  promised  you 
that  I  would,  and  I  will !" 

"That's  right,  Hodge,"  Frank  had  answered.  "I 
know  that  you  can  be  depended  on  to  do  all  you  can 
to-day.  But  I  feel  sure  that  Swiftwing  will  do  better 
work  than  you  think." 

"I  don't  dare  to  say  anything,  Merry,  for  the  other 
fellows  will  think  I'm  just  wildly  jealous  of  the  fellow ! 
The  idea!  Why,  that  girl  wouldn't  look  at  him  twice, 
He's  an  Indian !" 

Swiftwing  was  passing  and  heard  this,  and  he  gave 
Bart  a  look  of  hate  and  scorn. 

"Just  an  Indian!"  Swiftwing  was  bitterly  thinking, 


Some  Good  Work.  259 

as  he  stood  with  Merriwell's  men  afterward  and 
glanced  toward  the  crowd,  hoping  to  see  Lucy  Living- 
ston. "And  the  Pueblos  say  I  am  just  a  white  man.  I 
am  nothing!  But  I  will  show  Bart  Hodge  that  I  can 
pitch!" 

Merriwell  had  changed  the  order  of  his  batting-list, 
and  Jack  Ready  came  first  to  the  plate,  swinging  two 
bats  to  make  one  feel  lighter.  He  cast  the  extra  bat 
away  and  faced  the  pitcher. 

"You  see  the  man  on  that  steamer  out  there?"  he 
chirped.  "I'm  going  to  put  the  ball  right  into  his 
hands." 

The  steamer  was  half  a  mile  away. 

"Knock  the  eye  out  of  the  man  in  the  moon!" 
squealed  Bink. 

"Thanks  for  the  suggestion,  I  will !" 

The  ball  came  whistling  from  the  hand  of  Cur- 
ringer,  who  was  in  his  best  trim.  Ready  struck  at  it, 
and  missed. 

"One  puncture  in  the  ozone!"  gasped  Ready,  as  if 
he  could  not  understand  it. 

"You'll  knock  the  air  so  full  of  holes  that  we  can't 
breathe  it,"  some  one  guyed. 

Ready  thought  he  would  wait  till  he  got  a  ball  that 
suited  him.  The  next  ball  was  over  the  plate,  but  the 
curve  did  not  look  right. 

"Two  strikes !"  called  the  umpire. 


*6o  Some  Good  Work. 

Ready  gripped  the  bat  tighter,  and  swung  at  th« 
next,  which  he  saw  was  also  coming  over  the  plate. 

Plunk! 

"Three  strikes,  out !" 

Jack  looked  bewildered. 

"Why,  it's  easy !"  Curringer  laughed. 

The  Wabeek  rooters  began  to  howl. 

"I  guess  my  eyes  are  twisted,"  said  Ready,  stepping 
aside.  "I  hit  the  ball,  I  know,  but  it  went  through  the 
bat!" 

Gamp  came  up  awkwardly.  In  the  opinion  of  Cur- 
ringer  and  others  of  the  Wabeeks,  he  was  one  of  the 
"lobsters." 

"Gug-going  to  knock  the  cuc-cuc-cover  off  it!" 
Gamp  grinned. 

But  he  was  not  confident.  Curringer  gave  the  New 
Hampshire  lad  a  wide  curve,  thinking  he  would  strike 
at  it. 

"No,  ye  don't !"  Gamp  muttered. 

"One  ball!" 

The  next  was  an  in  curve,  and  Gamp  missed.  Cur- 
ringer  signaled  Gait,  the  catcher,  and  sent  in  a  slow 
drop.  Gamp  belted  it  and  sent  up  a  high  infield  fly, 
but  it  was  taken  in  by  Wadkins,  the  short-stop;  and 
Gamp  was  out. 

The  boys  sat  in  glum  silence,  while  a  tremendous 
din  was  being  made  by  the  Wabeek  sympathizers. 
Even  the  flag  seemed  to  droop. 


Some  Good  Work.  261 

Browning,  who  was  third  on  the  batting-list,  came 
up  looking  too  lazy  to  walk,  but  he  was  not  boasting. 
Curringer  tried  him  with  an  out  curve,  which  cut  the 
corner  of  the  plate,  but  Bruce  did  not  try  for  it.  Then 
Curringer  sent  in  a  drop,  which  Browning  let  go  by. 

"Two  strikes!"  cried  the  umpire;  and  Curringer's 
grin  could  be  seen  in  the  grand  stand. 

The  Wabeeks  were  howling  again.  Then  Bruce 
knocked  a  straight  drive  into  the  left  field,  and 
sprinted.  It  was  wonderful  to  see  the  big  fellow  run. 
All  the  sleepiness  and  laziness  had  vanished.  He  sim- 
ply tore  over  the  ground.  The  boys  were  yelling  like 
Indians,  and  the  Merriwell  sympathizers  were  screech- 
ing. Perkins,  of  Princeton,  the  left-fielder,  made  a 
desperate  effort  to  get  the  ball,  but  failed;  and,  with 
everybody  roaring,  Browning  raced  wildly  on  to  sec- 
ond. 

Bart  Hodge  came  to  the  bat,  looking  grim  and  de- 
termined. Browning  began  to  play  off  second  for  a 
lead,  closely  watched  by  Curringer.  The  first  pitched 
ball  was  a  strike,  though  Bart  did  not  swing  at  it.  With 
the  next,  Bart  put  a  beautiful  single  into  the  right 
field,  and  Bruce,  who  had  a  good  lead  off  second, 
sprinted  again,  running  like  a  race-horse.  Merriwell, 
who  had  gone  out  to  coach  him,  shouted  for  him  to  go 
home,  and  he  went  for  the  home  plate  like  the  wind. 

"Slide!"  Merriwell  yelled,  and  Bruce  threw  his  ira- 


262  Some  Good  Work." 

mense  form  forward  in  a  terrific  slide,  and  scored,  as 
the  ball  struck  in  the  hands  of  Gait,  the  catcher. 

Bruce's  remarkable  performance  set  the  Merriwell 
men  wild  again,  and  the  din  made  by  the  boys  was 
something  unearthly.  One  score  had  been  made,  with 
two  men  out,  and  Bart  had  taken  first. 

Curringer  was  sore.  The  grin  had  disappeared  from 
his  face. 

"That  giant  can  run  like  a  rabbit!"  he  was  grum- 
bling. "And  I  didn't  think  Hodge  could  get  that  ball. 
But  they'll  not  do  it  again,  you  bet !" 

Merriwell  set  Ready  to  coach  at  third,  and  went 
down  toward  first  to  coach  Hodge.  The  boys  screeched 
like  Sioux  as  Swiftwing  came  to  the  bat. 

"Get  a  good  lead  off  first !"  said  Merry  to  Bart. 

He  was  standing  with  his  left  side  toward  the  home 
plate,  and  put  his  left  hand  on  his  hip.  This  was  a 
signal  to  Swiftwing  to  wait  and  give  Hodge  a  chance 
to  steal  second. 

"That  redskin  can't  hit  me/'  thought  Curringer,  and 
put  a  ball  over  the  plate. 

He  was  watching  Hodge,  and  so  was  Gait.  Gait 
and  Curringer  were  the  Princeton  battery,  and  they 
did  good  team-work.  When  the  ball  came  back  from 
Gait,  Curringer  threw  it  over  to  first,  to  show  Hodge 
that  it  would  not  be  safe  to  try  to  steal.  The  ball  came 
back  to  him,  and  as  Hodge  began  to  play  off  he  threw 
it  again. 


Some  Good  Work.  263 

"Just  let  him  keep  throwing,"  Frank  advised.  "He'll 
throw  wild  by  and  by." 

Then  Curringer  suddenly  delivered  the  ball  to  the 
bat,  and  Merriwell  instantly  demanded  judgment  on  a 
"balk." 

"Curringer 's  foot  was  not  on  the  pitcher's  plate,  and 
he  did  not  properly  face  the  batter !"  he  declared. 

There  was  a  storm  of  protest  from  the  Wabeeks, 
and  a  buzz  in  the  grand  stand,  but  Merriwell  insisted 
on  his  point,  and  the  umpire  declared  a  balk,  which 
gave  Hodge  second  and  Swift  wing  first. 

Curringer  was  frothing  mad. 

"That  was  a  clean  steal!"  he  growled.  "I  know 
that  my  toe  was  on  the  plate." 

When  Rattleton  came  to  the  bat  Curringer  was  so 
wild  with  rage  that  he  gave  him  a  swift  one  right  over, 
and  Rattleton  drove  it  as  hot  as  a  Mauser  bullet 
straight  through  Wadkins'  hands  into  the  left  field. 
Rattleton  jumped  for  first,  while  the  base-runners 
fairly  flew. 

Everybody  began  to  howl. 

"Go  home !"'  Ready  yelled,  as  Bart  passed  third. 
"Go  home !  They  can't  get  you.  Go  home !" 

The  left-fielder  threw  to  third  to  cut  off  Swiftwing, 
but  Swiftwing  was  safe  on  third,  and  Hodge  had 
scored. 

"Why,  it's  easy!"  laughed  Merriwell  to  the  furious 
pitcher. 


264  Some  Good  Work. 

Carker,  who  came  to  the  bat  next,  was  anxious  to 
get  a  safe  hit  also.  Curringer  saw  that  his  anger  had 
led  him  into  a  bit  of  foolishness,  and  he  tried  to  get 
into  form.  He  begaa  to  pitch  corner-cutters.  He  was 
just  shaving  the  plate,  and  soon  two  balls  were  called 
on  him. 

If  Carker  had  been  content  to  wait,  he  probably 
would  have  got  to  first  on  balls,  but  because  Rattleton 
had  made  a  hit  he  wanted  to  do  the  same. 

"When  I  pull  myself  together,  you  can't  hit  me!" 
thought  Curringer,  and  he  gave  Carker  two  strikes. 
Then  three  balls  were  called. 

The  next  ball  looked  to  Carker  to  be  "easy,"  and  he 
swung  at  it — and  fanned  out  I 

The  side  was  out,  with  two  scores  to  its  credit. 

John  Swiftwing  went  into  the  box  with  a  face  as 
impassive  as  that  of  the  Sphinx.  The  Adirondack 
people,  who  had  known  him  only  as  a  guide,  wondered 
to  see  him  there.  They  did  not  believe  that  he  could 
pitch,  and  were  astonished  that  Merriwell  should  take 
any  chances  with  him  in  that  place.  Nor  did  the  Wa- 
beeks  believe  that  Swiftwing's  pitching  would  greatly 
endanger  their  chances  of  winning  the  game.  Hodge 
was  feeling  blue,  in  spite  of  fhe  fact  that  the  Merri- 
wells  had  made  two  scores.  He  was  fearful  of  Swift- 
wing's  ability,  and  he  hated  him,  besides. 

"Looking  up  into  the  grand  stand,  where  he  thinks 
Lucy  is!"  Hodge  growled  to  himself,  as  he  saw  the 


Some  Good  Work.  265 

Indian  give  a  swift  glance  in  that  direction.  "I'll  have 
to  hit  him  yet,  for  his  insolence.  I'm  sorry  Merry  put 
him  on  the  team.  If  I'd  had  my  will,  I'd  find  some 
means  to  postpone  this  game  for  a  week,  if  necessary, 
to  let  Merry's  wrist  get  in  condition." 

Wadkins,  the  short-stop,  was  the  first  man  at  the 
bat,  and  he  came  up  with  a  great  deal  of  confidence. 

"Now  we'll  see  the  short-stop  knock  the  cover  off 
the  old  thing!"  chattered  Rattleton  from  second.  "I 
mean  we'll  see  the  shop-stort — no,  the  top-short — no, 

the  short-stop Oh,  I  don't  know  what  I  mean — 

but  we'll  see  him  do  it !" 

Swiftwing  began  to  pitch,  but  his  beginning  did  not 
impress  the  Wabeeks  or  the  spectators.  He  seemed 
to  be  merely  monkeying  along,  but  very  quickly  had 
two  strikes  and  three  balls  called. 

"Just  wait,  Wadkins !"  advised  Kirk.  "He  can't  put 
the  next  one  over  the  plate." 

He  said  it  loud  enough  for  Swiftwing  to  hear.  The 
Indian  seemed  not  to  hear  it,  however.  But,  with  ter- 
rific speed,  he  sent  the  next  ball  straight  over  the 
Dlate,  and  the  batter  was  out. 

Kirk  looked  dazed,  and  Wadkins'  jaw  dropped. 
Neither  had  anticipated  such  a  thing.  The  grand 
stand  buzzed  with  admiration  for  the  pitcher,  seeming 
to  wake  all  at  once  to  the  fact  that  here  was  pitching- 
timber. 

Swiftwing  had  that  impassive  Indian  look  on  his 


266  Some  Good  Work. 

dark  face.  Once  Bart  saw  him  give  a  quick  and  al- 
most unnoticeable  glance  toward  the  grand  stand, 
which  made  Hodge  grind  his  teeth. 

"He  wants  to  know  that  she  saw  him  do  that!"  he 
grated.  "Of  course  she  saw  him,  and  of  course  she  is 
waving  her  handkerchief  like  all  possessed !  But  I'd  die 
before  I'd  look  and  give  Swiftwing  or  any  one  else  an 
opportunity  to  say  I  cared." 

Gait  was  next  at  the  bat.  He  did  not  like  the  way 
the  last  ball  came,  and  he  determined  to  be  careful. 

The  first  pitched  ball  was  an  out  curve,  just  out  of 
reach.  But  Gait  was  crafty  and  did  not  strike. 

"One  ball !"  called  the  umpire. 

The  next  ball  from  Swiftwing's  brown  fingers  gave 
an  in  shoot  close  to  the  batter's  knuckles.  Gait  thought 
he  could  get  a  hit,  and  he  fouled  it.  The  pitcher  fol- 
lowed this  with  a  swift,  straight  ball  close  to  Gait's 
shoulders.  Gait  struck  at  it. 

"One  strike !"  called  the  umpire. 

Then  Swiftwing  tried  a  drop,  not  knowing  that  Gait 
was  a  drop-striker.  Drops  suited  Gait  so  well  that  he 
was  said  to  be  one  of  those  fellows  who  "eat"  drops. 
Gait  lifted  the  ball  over  the  second-baseman's  head. 
Rattleton  tried  to  get  back  of  it,  but  failed,  and  the 
ball  dropped  short  of  Gamp,  the  center-fielder,  who 
was  racing  toward  it.  It  was  a  safe  hit,  and  Gait 
smiled  jubilantly  from  first,  while  the  Wabeek  rooters 
turned  up  again. 


Some  Good  Work.  267 

Gait  began  to  play  off  as  Severing-  came  to  the  bat 
Hodge  was  watching  him,  and  so  was  Swiftwing. 
The  coach  began  to  chatter.  On  the  second  pitched 
ball  Severing  swung  at  it  without  any  intention  of  hit- 
ting it,  and  with  a  flourish  of  the  bat  to  bewilder  Hodge 
and  bother  him  in  throwing  to  second,  for  which 
Gait  was  racing.  But  Bart  Hodge  was  not  so  easily 
bothered.  As  soon  as  the  ball  was  in  his  hands  he 
threw  it  with  lightning  speed  to  Rattleton,  on  second, 
and  Rattles  deftly  pinned  the  runner  on  the  slide. 

"Out,  second !"  declared  the  umpire.  There  was  a 
smart  fire  of  hand-clapping,  while  a  group  of  Merri- 
well  rooters  sent  up  a  roaring  yell. 

Then  Swiftwing  sent  in  a  swift  rise,  which  Severing 
struck  at. 

"Two  strikes !"  said  the  umpire. 

"Don't  be  fooled  by  those  things!"  Kirk  yelled  to 
Severing.  "Let  them  alone.  They're  too  high!" 

The  next  ball  sent  in  by  the  Indian  pitcher  was  ap- 
parently a  straight  ball  at  the  right  height.  Severing 
swung  at  it  in  great  confidence,  but  it  was  not  a  straight 
ball ;  it  was  a  drop. 

"Three  strikes !" 

Pandemonium  broke  loose  among  the  Merriwell 
sympathizers.  The  side  was  out,  and  the  Wabeeks  had 
not  made  a  score. 

"Dis  is  de  way  de  lobsters  do  ye !"  yelled  an  urchin. 
"You  fellers  ain't  in  it!  See?" 


268  Some  Good  Work. 

The  boys  grouped  around  the  Yale  flag  were  screech- 
ing. 

"Come  off  ther  dump!"  one  of  them  howled. 
"What's  the  matter  wid  Swiftwing  now?" 

It  was  heard  high  up  in  the  grand  stand. 

"Swiftwing!  He's  all  right!"  came  back  in  a  deaf- 
ening bray. 

Bart  Hodge  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  look, 
and  he  saw  Lucy  Livingston  standing  up,  wildly  wa- 
ving her  handkerchief,  while  a  score  of  pretty  girls 
grouped  round  her  were  doing  the  same. 

"Crazy  over  that  Indian!"  he  grunted.  "Just 
crazy !" 

Swiftwing's  eyes  were  shining  very  brightly  as  he 
came  in,  and  his  chest  was  heaving,  though  that  may 
have  been  the  result  of  his  recent  exertions.  But  to 
the  eyes  of  Bart  Hodge,  who  saw  him  glance  in  Lucy's 
direction,  this  was  evidence  that  Swiftwing  was  ex- 
ultantly conscious  that  Lucy  and  the  other  girls  were 
pinnacling  him  as  a  hero. 

"That  w*s  all  right!"  Frank  said,  speaking  'to 
Hodge.  Hodge  did  not  say  anything  as  Frank  passed 
on  to  repeat  his  congratulations  to  the  Indian  pitcher. 

"You  learned  more  than  football  at  Carlisle,  Swift- 
wing!"  he  said.  "That  was  all  right.  I  knew  how 
you  used  to  play  football,  and  I  was  sure  that  when 
put  to  the  test  you  could  pitch !" 

"What's  the  use  ?"  asked  the  Pueblo,  with  a  wave  of 


Some  Good  Work.  269 

the  hand  that  made  Merriwell  think  of  the  stories  he 
had  read  of  Indian  oratory. 

"What's  the  use?  Why,  that  was  good  work! 
Keep  that  up,  and  we  are  sure  to  win !" 

"I  mean  what  does  it  benefit  me?  I  can  be  nothing- 
but  an  Indian  among  white  men,  and  nothing  but  a 
white  man  among  Indians.  Bart  Hodge  called  me  an 
Indian  awhile  ago!  And  'all  the  good  Indians  are 
dead !'  It  is  useless  for  an  Indian  to  try  to  be  a  white 
man,  and  the  little  training  I  got  at  Carlisle  spoiled 
me  for  being  an  Indian.  But  I  suppose  it's  all  right. 
God  made  the  white  man  and  the  Indian  different.  The 
mistake  was  in  the  white  man  coming  to  this  country. 
He  should  have  remained  away ;  or,  when  he  came,  he 
should  have  killed  all  the  Indians,  since  it  was  impos- 
sible for  the  Indians  to  kill  the  superior  white  race !" 

This  last  clause  was  said  in  an  indescribably  bitter 
and  scornful  way. 

"But  the  people  are  admiring  your  work,"  Frank 
persisted,  feeling  that  there  was  something  of  truth  in 
Swiftwing's  declarations.  "Hear  them  still  howling! 
They  have  simply  gone  crazy  over  it.  I  want  to  con- 
gratulate you,  Swiftwing." 

"What's  the  use?"  again  with  that  wave  of  the  hand. 
"What  does  it  all  amount  to?  They  would  howl  the 
same  way  over  a  race-horse  that  had  made  a  good  run, 
or  over  a  bulldog  that  was  able  to  bite  a  little  harder 
than  the  other  bulldog.  But  the  horse  and  the  bulldog 


270  Some  Good  Work. 

would  still  be  in  their  eyes  horse  and  bulldog1.  The 
very  people  who  are  howling  would  probably  make  a 
kick  if  I  should  have  a  room  next  theirs,  or  eat  at  the 
table  with  them.  The  white  men  own  the  world,  and 
they  have  even  shaped  the  religion  which  tells  us  about 
the  other  world.  I  think  if  there  is  any  other  world 
there  must  be  a  separate  place  for  Indians.  And  if  I 
should  ever  get  there,  where  would  be  my  place?  I 
am  neither  a  white  man  nor  an  Indian!  What's  the 
use?" 

Frank  would  have  said  more,  but  Swiftwing  passed 
on,  as  if  he  did  not  want  to  hear  more,  while  Frank 
looked  after  him  with  regret. 

"The  open  flattery  of  those  girls  isn't  salve  enough 
to  heal  the  old  wound,"  he  thought.  "Yet  I  have  seen 
him  looking  at  Lucy  Livingston  in  a  strange  way! 
Cam  it  be  possible  that  he  is  in  love  with  her,  and  know- 
ing that,  because  he  is  an  Indian,  he  may  never  hope 
to  approach  her  as  a  lover,  causes  him  to  feel  this  way  ? 
He  seemed  different  the  other  day.  She  is  doing  him 
and  herself  a  wrong  by  her  present  course.  I  hope  no 
harm  will  come  of  it !" 

Nevertheless,  he  felt  uneasy  and  disturbed  as  he 
waHced  over  and  began  to  talk  to  Bruce  and  Bart. 

"Did  you  see  those  crazy  girls?"  Bruce  yawningly 
asked.  "Regular  lunatics  over  that  Indian!" 

Merriwell  glanced  round. 

"Be  careful,  Bruce !    Swiftwing  went  by  then,  and  ! 


Some  Good  Work.  271 

think  he  heard  you.  He  heard  something  of  that  kind 
from  Bart,  and  it  has  made  him  bitter.  I  don't  want 
him  to  hear  any  more.  I  feel  sorry  for  him  myself." 

"Oh,  don't  trouble  about  him !"  growled  Bart.  "He 
likes  flattery,  and  he  is  getting  it  in  large  and  liberal 
doses  this  afternoon." 

The  boys  were  heard  yelling : 

"Merriwell  knows  the  kind  o'  thing  to  put  into  the 
box !  This  Indian  waryer  is  a  corker !  You  Wabeeks 
is  feelin'  sore,  ain't  ye?" 

"I  want  to  compliment  you  on  your  throw,  Bart. 
That  was  wonderfully  quick  and  fine  work." 

Hodge's  dark  face  brightened.  Praise  from  Frank 
was  always  pleasant  to  him. 

"I  didn't  intend  to  let  that  fellow  steal  second,  if  I 
could  help  it !" 

Then  Merriwell  passed  on  to  tell  Rattleton  that  in 
catching  and  holding  Bart's  wonderful  throw  and  put- 
ting the  ball  on  the  man  he  had  covered  the  second 
base  with  glory. 

"Oh,  we'll  do  'em,  Merry!  We'll  rave  'em  on  the 
hun — have  'em  6n  the  run  in  a  little  while.  If  we  can 
get  two  more  scores  in  this  inning,  we  can  shut  them 
out,  maybe." 

"We  must  try  for  it,"  said  Frank ;  and  then  walked 
on  to  talk  to  other  members  of  the  nine  and  encourage 
them  in  their  work. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

CONFIDENT      CURRINGER. 

In  the  first  half  of  the  second  inning  Bink  Stubbs 
came  first  to  the  bat.  The  little  fellow  walked  up  with 
the  proud  air  of  a  conquering  hero — or  a  peacock. 

"See  me  knock  its  eye  out!"  he  gurgled,  as  Cur- 
ringer  turned  to  send  in  the  first  ball. 

"Put  it  inter  de  lake!"  yelled  a  boy  near. 

"I'm  going  to  do  that  very  thing,  but  as  I'm  not 
boastful  I  wanted  to  surprise  you.  What  made  you 
give  it  away  ?  Now,  we  do  'em !  See  me !" 

But  the  ball  went  wide  of  the  plate,  and  Stubbs  did 
not  strike  at  it. 

"I'm  not  hunting  for  *balls,'  but  for  hits!"  he 
howled,  shaking  his  bat.  "There's  a  hole  near  the  end 
of  this  bat.  See  if  you  can  put  it  through  the  hole." 

Curringer  put  it  "through  the  hole,"  and  Bink 
fanned. 

"That  was  one  of  my  little  surprises,  but  I'll  get  you 
next  time!" 

Crack ! 

He  did  get  the  next  one,  drove  it  straight  into  the 
hands  of  the  first-baseman — and  was  out. 

"Of  course,  you  can't  expect  anything  from  that 
boastful  runt!"  said  Griswold.  takine  the  bat.  "There 


Confident  Curringer.  373 

are  always  holes  in  any  bat  that  he  uses,  and  when  he 
manages  to  hit  the  ball  he  can't  get  it  beyond  the  dia- 
mond. If  you  want  to  see  batting  that  is  batting, 
fasten  your  eagle  eyes  on  me!" 

"And  you'll  see  the  most  insufferable  mouth- 
stretcher  in  the  country!"  Bink  sneered.  "If  you'd 
hold  your  mouth  once  in  a  while  perhaps  you  could 
think  better." 

"Nothing  could  ever  make  you  think  better!  Your 
think-tank  is  full  of  water.  Go  buy  some  brains !" 

"And  lend  'em  to  you?  I  guess  not!  I've  got  a 
sufficiency.  Pay  out  your  own  money  for  your  neces- 
saries !" 

"If  I  can't  do  any  better  than  you,  I'll  eat  my  bat !" 

"Then  you're  sure  to  die  of  indigestion !" 

Curringer  threw  the  ball,  and  Danny  missed  it. 

"Whenever  you  take  up  a  bat  it  becomes  a  regular 
sieve.  Any  old  thing  could  pitch  a  ball  that  you 
couldn't  get." 

"Oh,  shut  up!"  Danny  howled.  "You'd  make  an 
iron  post  nervous.  Now  I  get  this  one,  and  take  sec- 
ond!" 

Curringer  put  the  ball  over  the  plate. 

Crack ! 

Danny  drove  it  straight  into  the  hands  of  the  third- 
baseman — and  he  was  out.  Curringer  was  grinning 
again.  He  began  to  feel  sure  that,  after  all,  the  "lob- 
sters" were  dead  easy.  The  fact  that  two  of  the  Mer- 


274  Confident  Curringer. 

dwells  were  out  and  no  score  made  in  this  inning  set 
the  Wabeek  rooters  to  roaring  again. 

"Get  a  braee  on  ye !"  one  of  the  boys  yelled  to  Jack 
Ready,  who  was  next  on  the  batting-list.  "You  fel- 
lers ain't  doin'  nuttin'!  Two  or  free  can't  do  all  de 
work !  Knock  de  cover  off  n  it  I" 

Ready  looked  the  bat  over  very  carefully,  as  if  he 
were  searching  for  holes. 

"When  I  swing  at  it  cover  and  all  will  disappear !" 

It  was  Ready's  hyperbolic  way.  If  he  knew  that  he 
was  bound  to  fail,  it  would  be  just  like  him  to  say  that 
he  was  "hot  stuff/'  in  ridicule  of  his  own  abilities. 

"Here's  where  I  bat  you  out  of  the  box,  Curringer ! 
Send  in  a  corkscrew  twist!  I  just  eat  corkscrews. 
But  I  haven't  had  any  lately,  for  the  price  of  iron  is  up, 
and  now  I'm  hungry!  Yes,  I'll  take  a  corkscrew — 
and  a  bottle  of  something  good,  to  make  the  corkscrew 
worth  while!  Send  'em  in." 

Curringer  was  grinning. 

"Here  is  a  double-twisted  corkscrew,  with  a  bow- 
knot  in  its  tail !"  yelled  one  of  the  boys,  as  Curringer 
put  up  his  hand. 

Ready  hit  the  ball  and  sent  up  a  long  fly  into  the 
center  field  and  sprinted  for  first.  But  Severing,  the 
center-fielder,  got  under  it  and  neatly  gathered  it  in. 

Jack  Ready  was  out,  and  the  side  was  out.  The 
rooters  of  the  Wabeeks  were  wild,  and  the  Wabeek 


Confident  Curringer.  275 

nine  came  in  from  the  field  in  a  most  cheerful  and 
optimistic  frame  of  mind.  Curringer  was  exultant. 

"Oh,  ye  needn't  stick  yer  nose  into  de  air!"  a  boy 
scornfully  yelled  at  him.  "You  didn't  strike  out  any- 
thing ner  nuttin' !" 

"They  was  hittin'  you,  all  right!"  yelled  another. 
"  'Twas  field-work  that  done  it,  not  you !" 

Curringer  gave  the  youthful  group  an  angry  glance, 
and  they  continued  to  guy  him,  ending  up  with  de- 
risive blasts  from  the  horns. 

But  the  Wabeek  sympathizers  continued  to  yell  for 
him  and  for  the  fielders  who  had  caught  out  the  men, 
and  this  took  away  something  of  the  sting  planted  by 
the  gibes  of  the  boys. 

Swiftwing  went  into  the  box  again,  amid  an  out- 
burst of  applause.  Putnam,  of  Dartmouth,  a  left- 
handed  batter,  came  to  the  bat  first.  He  was  a  clean- 
looking  fellow  and  a  good  player,  and  he  was  said  to  be 
a  descendant  of  "Old  Put/'  of  Revolutionary  fame. 
He  turned  his  right  side  toward  Swiftwing  as  he  got 
ready  to  strike,  and  held  his  bat  in  an  easy  and  con- 
fident manner. 

"See  de  Indian  strike  him  out !"  one  of  the  irrepres- 
sible small  boys  yelled.  Swiftwing  gave  him  a  black 
look,  which  made  Merriwell  know  that  in  spite  of  his 
calm  appearance  the  heart  of  the  Pueblo  youth  was 
boiling  like  a  volcano. 

The  speed  with  which  he  sent  in  the  ball  was  some- 


276  Confident  Curringer. 

thing  terrific.  It  was  simply  great.  It  went  straight 
over  the  plate  and  had  no  curve.  Putnam  struck  at  it, 
but  as  he  swung,  the  ball  went  plunk  in  the  hands  of 
Hodge. 

A  howl  of  satisfaction  arose  from  the  Merriwell 
rooters,  and  the  crowd  along  the  fences  hammered  the 
railing  and  yelled. 

The  Indian  pitcher  next  tried  to  send  in  a  corner- 
cutter,  but  it  missed  the  plate,  and  one  ball  was  called. 
He  tried  this  again,  and  another  ball  was  called. 

Put  was  very  wary,  and  hoped  to  get  a  base  on  balls. 
Then  Swiftwing  sent  in  another  straight  ball  with  such 
wonderful  speed  that,  though  Putnam  belted  at  it,  it 
was  really  past  his  bat  before  he  swung. 

"Two  strikes!"  called  the  umpire.  And  again  the 
Merriwell  rooters  opened. 

"I'll  get  you  next  time!"  Putnam  mentally  gritted. 
Again  the  Indian  pitcher  sent  in  one  of  those  hot  balls, 
and  Putnam,  prepared  for  it,  struck  it  fairly  on  the 
trade-mark  and  drove  it  into  center  field. 

In  an  instant  Frank  saw  that  it  was  going  far  over 
'Gamp's  head. 

"Back,  Gamp — back!"  he  shouted.  Putnam  was  a 
pretty  and  speedy  runner,  and  he  seemed  fairly  to  fly 
down  toward  first.  He  crossed  the  bag  and  made  for 
second  as  if  his  feet  were  winged. 

A  great  roar  broke  out.  The  Wabeek  sympathizers 
along  the  fence  danced  and  hammered  the  railing  and 


Confident  Currlnger.  277 

shrieked.  The  coachers  were  yelling  at  Putnam  and 
telling  him  to  go  on,  though  their  voices  were  drowned 
in  the  babel  that  now  became  deafening. 

Merriwell's  heart  sank,  for  he  saw  that  Gamp  would 
not  be  able  to  get  the  ball. 

"A  safe  drive  for  four  bags!"  laughed  Kirk,  and  it 
seemed  that  he  was  right.  Bart  Hodge  was  fuming, 
while  Rattleton.  on  second,  was  dancing  about  like  a 
lunatic,  so  nervously  anxious  that  he  could  not  stand 
still.  Browning,  on  first,  alone  was  placid,  though  his 
eyes  were  on  Gamp,  who  had  turned  and  was  making 
a  great  run  to  get  under  the  ball,  though  the  thing 
seemed  impossible. 

Gamp  glanced  over  his  shoulder  and  saw  the  ball 
coming  and  made  a  wonderful  leap  in  the  air  to  get  it. 
It  touched  his  fingers  and  made  a  great  jump  from 
them,  going  straight  on.  Putnam  crossed  second  base 
and  flew  toward  third.  Over  by  third  the  coacher,  un- 
able to  make  himself  heard,  was  making  frantic  ges- 
tures. Gamp's  long  legs  took  him  after  the  ball  as 
swiftly  as  possible.  It  struck  the  ground,  bounced, 
and  raced  away  from  him. 

"Oh,  he  can't  get  it !" 

"He  can't  get  it  in  if  he  does!" 

"A  four-bagger,  sure!" 

The  ball  bounded  into  some  bushes,  and  Gamp 
plunged  in  after  it,  and  seemed  to  be  digging  round  in 
a  frantic  endeavor  to  find  it.  The  spectators  were 


278  Confident  Curringer. 

howling.  Some  were  shrieking  with  laughter.  It  was 
very  funny  to  see  that  awkward  New  Hampshire  lad 
chasing  the  ball  as  if  it  were  a  greased  pig,  and  now 
digging  after  it  as  if  it  were  a  rabbit  in  a  hole  and  he  a 
frantic  terrier.  They  were  sure  now,  if  they  had  not 
known  it  before,  that  the  lank  fellow  in  the  center  field 
could  not  play  ball.  He  was  one  of  the  lobsters !  He 
was  a  giraffe  of  Merriwell's  menagerie. 

In  his  frantic  efforts  to  dig  the  ball  out  of  the 
bushes  Gamp  seemed  to  fall  all  over  himself.  The 
coacher  near  third  was  laughing  as  Putnam  crossed 
that  bag  and  started  for  home. 

"It's  a  score,  Put !"  he  yelled. 

And  Putnam,  seeing  and  hearing  the  frantic  Wa- 
beeks,  was  also  sure  that  it  was  a  score.  The  ball,  he 
knew,  was  somewhere  in  deep  center — lost,  probably — 
and  he  did  not  need  to  run  his  legs  off.  Still,  he  came 
on  at  a  good  gait.  Curringer  was  grinning. 

"This  will  break  that  Indian's  heart!"  some  one 
shrieked.  "He'll  stop  shooting  rifle-bullets.  He  won't 
dare  to  try  that  again." 

"They're  onto  him  now,  and  they'll  bat  him  out  of 
the  box!" 

Every  one  supposed,  of  course,  that  Gamp,  if  he 
found  the  ball,  must  throw  to  Rattleton,  on  second; 
whereupon  Rattleton  would  be  compelled  to  catch  the 
ball,  turn  and  throw  it  home.  The  thing  couldn't  be 
done !  Putnam  might  as  well  walk  in.  He  was  in  no 


Confident  Curringer.  279 

danger.  And  Putnam  thought  the  same,  for  the  coach- 
ers  had  stopped  shouting  to  him,  and  he  saw  Cur- 
ringer's  triumphant  grin. 

Then  Gamp  came  out  of  the  bushes  as  if  shot  by  a 
cannon,  and  as  he  came  he  gathered  himself  for  a 
throw.  Then,  with  all  his  immense  strength,  he  sent 
the  ball. 

What  was  the  fool  thinking  about?  That  was  the 
thought.  For  he  had  thrown  toward  the  home  plate, 
too  high  entirely  for  Rattleton  to  get  it.  But  the  ball 
did  not  really  rise  high  in  the  air.  At  no  time  was  it 
more  than  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground.  It  whizzed 
for  home,  and  with  such  speed  that  it  could  hardly  be 
seen. 

A  hush  came  over  the  spectators.  That  throw  of  it- 
self, it  it  did  not  accomplish  anything — and  they  did 
not  believe  that  it  could — was  something  superb.  The 
coachers  saw  the  ball  whistling  along  with  a  speed  that 
seemed  to  increase  as  it  flew  over  the  head  of  Rattle- 
ton.  Hodge  was  standing  two  feet  from  home  plate, 
and  somewhat  to  one  side  toward  third,  his  eyes  on 
the  ball,  and  ready  for  it. 

Suddenly  the  coacher  near  third  awoke  to  danger. 

"Slide!"  he  shrieked  to  Putnam.    "Slide— slide !" 

Then  the  other  coacher  shrieked : 

"Slide,  you  idiot!    Slide!" 

The  astonished  and  bewildered  runner  threw  himself 
forward,  as  he  heard  something  go  whizzing  by — it 


280  Confident  Curringer. 

could  not  be  the  ball ! — and  stretched  out  his  hands  for 
the  plate.  As  he  did  so  he  heard  a  plunk  and  felt  a 
thump  on  the  back. 

"Man  out !"  shouted  the  umpire,  who  could  not  him- 
self remain  cool. 

Putnam  felt  that  there  must  be  a  mistake — felt  too 
dazed  to  rise.  Out?  When  he  was  safe?  It  couldn't 
be! 

But  the  bleachers  and  grand  stand  and  the  spectators 
everywhere  were  roaring — roaring.  Even  the  Wabeek 
sympathizers  seemed  joining  in.  What  was  the  mat- 
ter ?  He  was  out  ?  It  couldn't  be !  Yes,  he  was  out ! 
He  blinked  blindly  as  he  got  up.  Yet  it  seemed  im- 
possible. Out?  What  kind  of  a  thrower  was  that 
long-legged,  awkward  center-fielder,  anyway? 

And  he  heard  the  shout  from  the  boys ; 

"Wot's  de  matter  wid  long-legs  ?" 

And  then  a  wild  howl : 

"He's  all  right!" 

Then  another  boy  yelled: 

"Use  Pears'  soap !" 

"Pears'  soap  ?"  Putnam  stammered,  dazed  and  dizzy. 
"What  does  he  mean  ?" 

A  man  near,  who  had  been  whooping  and  screeching 
a  moment  before,  interpreted  the  slang  for  him,  and 
grinned  with  delight. 

".That's  another  way  of  saying,  'Get  off  the  earth !'  " 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SWIFTWING   TURNED   DOWN. 

Mason,  of  Brown,  the  center-fielder,  was  next  on 
the  batting-list.  He  was  nervous,  but  cautious,  and 
Swiftwing,  trying  corner-cutters  again,  gave  him  a 
base  on  balls. 

Feeling  sure  that  he  could  throw  corner-cutters, 
Swiftwing  tried  them  again,  and  two  balls  were  called 
on  him.  His  heart  began  to  rage,  for  it  was  evident 
that  in  this  style  of  pitching  the  umpire  would  rule 
against  him.  He  knew  that  one  which  had  been  called 
a  "ball"  was  a  "strike." 

Mason,  on  first,  was  still  cautious  and  afraid  to  try 
to  steal  second,  remembering  Hodge's  wonderful  throw 
in  the  first  inning. 

"Three  balls !"  called  the  umpire. 

"Dat  umpire  has  a  bum  eye !"  yelled  a  boy. 

Seeing  that  he  would  be  compelled  to  put  the  ball 
over  the  center  of  the  plate,  the  Indian  pitcher  sent  in 
a  swift  one.  Perkins,  who  was  at  bat,  hit  one  down  to 
first  base,  which  Bruce  should  have  handled  without 
trouble.  But  the  big  fellow  seemed  to  have  fallen 
asleep,  and  the  ball  got  through  him.  If  he  had  han- 
dled it,  Bruce  might  have  made  a  double-play,  putting 
the  battei  out  and  cutting  off  Mason  by  a  throw  to 


282  Swiftwing  Turned  Down. 

second.  Instead,  he  let  the  ball  get  away  from  him, 
and  Mason  passed  second  and  went  to  third.  Swift- 
wing  was  fuming,  though  his  face  was  unreadable. 

"What's  the  use  of  pitching,  with  such  work  as 
that?" 

The  Wabeeks  were  regaining  courage  and  yelling 
again.  As  Mason  took  third  all  their  courage  came 
back.  Only  one  man  out,  and  a  man  now  on  first  and 
third,  it  seemed  the  Wabeek  nine  ought  to  bring  in  a 
score.  Ogle,  of  Harvard,  the  right-fielder,  came  con- 
fidently to  the  bat. 

On  the  first  pitched  ball  Perkins  tried  to  steal  sec- 
ond, sure  that  Hodge  would  not  dare  to  throw  to  sec- 
ond for  fear  of  letting  Mason  home  from  third.  But 
he  was  mistaken.  Hodge  threw  low  and  straight  and 
swift,  and  Rattleton,  who  was  expecting  it,  caught  the 
ball  and  instantly  sent  it  back,  without  trying  to  put  it 
on  the  base-runner,  with  the  intention  of  cutting  off 
Mason,  who  was  racing  for  home.  There  was  a  mo- 
ment of  breathless  silence,  and  a  roar  when  it  was  seen 
that  Hodge  had  stopped  the  man  and  put  him  out  at 
the  home  plate. 

Then  Perkins,  who  had  foolishly  stopped  and  danced 
about  between  first  and  second,  was  caught  in  a  plunge 
for  the  latter  bag  by  yet  another  quick  short-arm  throw 
from  Hodge,  setting  the  crowd  wild. 

"Three  men  out !  Side  out !"  yelled  the  boys,  fran- 
tically waving  their  flag  as  the  Merriwells  came  in 


Swiftwing  Turned  Down.  283 

from  the  field.  "How's  that  for  the  lobsters?  How 
was  that  for  a  double-play?" 

In  the  first  of  the  third  inning  Gamp  came  to  the 
bat,  and,  after  a  strike,  drove  one  with  crushing  force 
against  Curringer's  shins.  Curringer  was  already 
mad,  and  this  made  him  madder,  so  that  he  fairly  raved 
as  he  danced  about,  unable  to  keep  Gamp  from  taking 
first. 

As  Browning  came  up,  Curringer  was  not  only  mad 
clean  through,  but  he  was  nervous,  for  he  remembered 
Bruce's  two-bagger  in  the  first  inning,  and  did  not 
want  it  repeated.  In  trying  to  prevent  it,  he  gave 
Browning  a  base  on  balls. 

Then  Hodge  came  to  the  bat.  Frank,  who  had  gone 
down  toward  first,  signaled  him  to  sacrifice.  Hodge 
saw  the  signal  with  a  grunt  of  dislike,  for  he  was 
anxious  to  lace  out  the  ball,  but  he  crowded  down  his 
desire  and  sacrificed,  and,  while  he  was  being  thrown 
out  at  first,  Browning  went  to  second  and  Gamp  to 
third. 

Swiftwing  came  to  the  bat  amid  the  admiring  cries 
of  the  boys,  and  prank  signaled  him  to  hit  the  ball  out. 
He  did  not  swing  until  two  balls  and  two  strikes  had 
been  called,  then  lined  a  terrifically  long  fly  into  center. 

"Hold  your  bases !"  Frank  shouted,  for  he  believed 
that  the  ball  would  be  caught.  Severing,  who  was 
racing  for  it,  got  under  it  and  gathered  it  in.  The  mo- 
ment it  dropped  into  his  hands  the  runners  leaped 


284  Swiiiwmg  Turned  Down. 

from  the  bases,  Gamp  flying  for  home  and  Bruce 
sprinting  for  third,  amid  roars  of  applause.  Severing 
was  no  such  thrower  as  Joe  Gamp,  and  he  was  com- 
pelled to  send  the  ball  to  Kirk,  on  second  base,  and 
Gamp  scored,  amid  another  yell  of  approval,  while 
Kirk  threw  to  third  to  catch  Browning. 

It  was  a  wild  throw,  and,  in  a  perfect  pendemonium 
of  howls  and  shouts,  Bruce  came  home,  making  an- 
other score.  There  were  now  four  scores  to  the  credit 
of  the  Athletic  Team,  and  Curringer's  nervousness  in- 
creased. He  began  to  see  that  he  had  underrated 
"Merriwell's  Menagerie."  They  were  not  lobsters,  but 
men  who  could  play  ball. 

He  tried  to  control  his  shaking  nerves  as  Rattleton 

came  to  the  bat,  making  a  desperate  effort ;  and  he  suc- 

i 
ceeded  so  well  that  he  quickly  struck  out  Rattleton, 

and  retired  the  side. 

Swiftwing  was  also  eating  out  his  hot  Indian  heart 
as  he  went  into  the  box,  for  he  had  heard  more  cutting 
talk.  As  a  consequence,  Ogle,  who  was  first  up,  batted 
the  first  pitched  ball  toward  short-stop.  Bink  fumbled 
it,  and  Ogle  took  first  on  the  error. 

"You'd  better  use  Pears'  soap !"  yelled  Danny,  from 
right  field,  for  Danny  was  jealous  of  Bink,  thinking 
that  he  himself  ought  to  have  been  assigned  to  the 
position  of  short-stop. 

Then  Kirk  lifted  a  fly  into  right  field,  and  Danny 
dropped  it  Danny  chased  it  round  his  feet,  got  hold 


Swift  wing  Turned  Down.  285 

•f  it  and  threw  to  second,  but  the  runner  was  there 
before  the  ball.  It  was  another  error,  and  Bink  came 
back  at  Griswold  with  some  hot  talk  that  made  the 
little  red-headed  right-fielder  threaten  to  come  across 
and  spread  Stubbs'  nose  all  over  his  face. 

Swiftwing  was  discouraged. 

"What's  the  use?"  he  was  thinking.  "I  can't  do 
anything  with  such  fielding!" 

Compelled  to  cut  the  heart  of  the  plate  or  have 
"balls"  called  on  him,  the  Indian  pitcher  sent  in  an- 
other swift  one,  and  Curringer,  who  was  again  at  the 
bat,  got  a  pretty  single,  which  took  Kirk  from  first  to 
third  and  brought  Ogle  home  from  second. 

The  Wabeek  supporters  were  howling  again,  while 
Swift  wing's  disgust  and  rage  grew. 

"Here's  where  we've  got  'em!"  Severing  yelled. 
"Here's  where  they  go  to  pieces !  We'll  bat  him  out  of 
the  box!" 

Curringer  did  not  dare  to  try  to  steal  second  on 
Hodge,  even  though  Kirk  was  on  third,  for  he  had  a 
wholesome  fear  of  Bart's  throwing.  And  this  was  re- 
markable and  showed  how  much  he  feared  Hodge,  for 
in  such  a  case  the  runner  at  first  nearly  always  tries  to 
steal. 

Though  Swiftwing's  face  was  still  calm,  his  nerves 
were  on  fire,  and,  after  one  strike,  Wadkins  put  a  two- 
bagger  into  the  left  field,  on  which  Kirk  came  home 


286  Swiftwing  Turned  Down. 

and  made  another  score,  while  Curringer  went  to  third, 
in  spite  of  all  that  Carker  could  do. 

And  still  no  one  was  out. 

"Here's  where  we  do  you !"  Curringer  grinned. 

"Here's  where  we  bat  your  Injun  out  of  the  box!" 
cried  another. 

"Get  a  wooden,  cigar-store  Indian  and  set  him  to 
pitching!"  some  one  howled  from  the  bleachers.  "He's 
no  good !" 

"Take  him  out  of  the  box!    Anything  can  hit  him!" 

The  fickle  crowd,  which  had  so  applauded  the  Pueblo 
but  a  little  while  before,  was  turning  against  him. 
Swiftwing  glanced  toward  the  grand  stand,  and  Lucy 
Livingston  fluttered  her  handkerchief  encouragingly. 

Gait  took  up  the  bat  and  promptly  got  a  long  single, 
which  brought  in  Curringer  from  third  and  Wadkins 
from  second,  making  two  scores. 

The  scores  now  stood  four  for  the  Athletic  Team  and 
four  for  the  Wabeek  nine.  And  still  not  a  man  of  the 
Wabeeks  was  out.  The  cries  against  Swiftwing  were 
rising  into  a  storm  of  indignation. 

"Just  an  Indian."  His  hot  heart  boiled.  "If  the 
righting  bulldog  doesn't  always  bite  hard,  his  white 
owners  promptly  kick  him!"  and  the  thought  caused 
his  nerves  to  thrill  strangely. 

Severing  walked  into  position,  swinging  the  bat  and 
smiling  confidently.  One  ball  and  one  strike  were 
called ;  then,  with  a  terrific  stroke,  he  drove  a  three- 


Swiftwing  Turned  Down.  287 

bagger  into  the  right  field,  and  while  Danny  was  cha- 
sing it  Gait  made  the  round  of  the  bases  and  scored. 

Hodge,  who  had  been  all  along  fuming  against 
Swiftwing,  with  his  anger  constantly  rising,  was  ready 
to  tear  off  his  mask  and  refuse  to  play  any  longer.  All 
the  other  members  of  the  '  team  were  also  stewing. 
Even  Browning  was  droning  his  disgust  from  first, 
while  Rattleton  danced  about  on  second,  unable  to 
stand  still.  The  team  was  becoming  all  torn  up  the 
back,  and  there  seemed  not  a  ghost  of  a  chance  of 
winning  the  game.  Merriwell  saw  it,  and,  while  he 
was  sorry  for  Swiftwing,  he  was  determined  that  the 
iWabeeks  should  not  win. 

For  a  moment  he  looked  at  his  swollen  wrist, 
pinched  and  worked  it;  then  he  walked  out  into  the 
diamond,  spoke  a  few  words  to  the  Pueblo  and  took 
the  ball.  Swiftwing's  face  did  not  change,  although 
his  dark  eyes  were  glittering. 

"Hear  them  yell  at  the  Indian !"  he  muttered.  "Yes, 
I'm  an  Indian,  and  I  might  as  well  stay  Indian  and 
play  Indian.  What's  the  use?" 

Frank  heard  Kim  and  would  have  said  something, 
but  Swiftwing  walked  away. 

"This  is  all  right,  fellows!"  Curringer  was  heard 
saying.  "This  is  the  man  with  the  lame  wrist !  We'll 
bat  him  out  of  the  box  in  no  time !  He'll  be  easier  than 
the  Indian." 

Bart  Hodge  looked  toward  the  grand  stand  and  saw; 


288          Swiftwing  Turned  Down. 

Lucy  Livingston  descend  from  it  as  if  she  meant  to  go 
toward  Swiftwing. 

"That  makes  me  sick!"  he  growled.  "She'll  go  to 
him  and  talk  with  him  and  make  him  think  that  he's  a 
hero,  after  all!" 

Then  Bart  looked  toward  Frank,  whom  he  was  glad 
to  see  in  the  box,  but  about  whose  wrist  he  was  anx- 
ious. 

"Merry  ought  not  to  try  to  pitch!  But  maybe  he 
can,  if  he'll  let  the  double-shoot  alone.  If  he  tries 
that,  I  shall  raise  a  kick." 

The  other  members  of  the  team  were  brightening 
wonderfully,  though  they,  too,  were  fearful  that  Frank 
could  not  pitch  and  ought  not  to  try.  Putnam  loafed 
up  to  the  plate  with  a  laugh  and  faced  Merriwell. 

"\\Vre  ready  to  do  you,  too !"  he  shouted. 

Frank  promptly  sent  in  a  double-shoot. 

"One  strike!"  called  the  umpire. 

Hodge  vigorously  and  protestingly  shook  his  head. 
A  swift  ball  straight  over  the  plate  came  next.  Put 
struck  at  this,  and  fanned. 

"Two  strikes!" 

The  batter  began  to  feel  dizzy  and  wabbly.  What 
kind  of  pitching  was  this,  anyway,  from  a  man  with  a 
lame  wrist?  Once  more  the  double-shoot  twisted 
across  the  plate.  Putnam,  seeing  it  was  a  strike, 
swung  at  it,  and  again  missed. 

"Three  strikes,  out!" 


Swiftwing  Turned  Down.  289 

The  smile  had  faded  from  old  Put's  face,  and  now 
fai*  jaw  dropped,  while  Merriwell  sympathizers  sent  up 
a  wild  yell.  The  boys  screeched  and  whistled,  rang 
their  bells,  and  blew  their  horns,  swishing  the  flag  so 
violently  that  there  seemed  danger  that  it  would  be 
jerked  into  ribbons. 

Hodge  walked  down  into  the  diamond  and  put  his 
protest  into  words : 

"You  must  stop  that,  Merry.  Better  lose  the  game 
than  ruin  your  wrist!  You  know  how  it  was  this 
morning !" 

"Don't  worry,  Hodge!  We're  here  to  win  this 
game,  and  we'll  win  it !" 

Protests  were  useless,  and  Hodge  walked  back,  feel- 
ing, however,  that  Merry  was  a  better  judge  of  such 
things  than  he  could  possibly  be,  and  with  an  increased 
admiration,  if  that  were  possible,  for  the  captain  of  the 
nine — his  long-tried  friend  and  comrade,  Frank  Merri- 
well. 

"I'll  do  my  part,"  he  determinedly  gritted,  while  a 
look  that  was  almost  fierce  came  to  his  dark  face ;  "and 
if  Frank  can  stand  that  business,  we'll  do  up  this  crow- 
ing crowd  in  short  order !" 

Mason  was  next  up,  and  Frank  tried  him  with 
straight  balls,  in  an  effort  to  save  his  wrist  as  much  as 
possible.  But  Mason,  having  seen  Putnam  so  quickly 
done  up,  was  wary.  Two  strikes  and  three  balls  were 
called.  Then  Frank  gave  him  one  that  looked  to  be  an 


290          Swiltwing  Turned  Down. 

easy  out  curve,  but  it  twisted  in  the  other  direction  as 
it  neared  the  plate,  and  he  fanned  out. 

Perkins,  amid  a  din  that  was  unearthly,  took  a  bat 
and  advanced  to  the  plate. 

"De  feller  dat  said  he  never  heard  of  de  double-shoot 
is  seem'  it  now !"  yelled  a  boy.  "Oh,  dese  things  can't 
hit  ye!" 

Perkins  looked  uneasy.  He  knew  of  that  double- 
shoot,  and  had  seen  its  work  before.  But  Frank  did 
not  try  it  first,  and  two  strikes  were  called.  He  was 
sending  the  balls  straight  over  the  plate  with  a  speed 
as  great  as  that  of  Swiftwing.  He  felt  that  he  would 
swing  at  the  next  one,  and,  for  fear  he  might  get  it, 
Frank  sent  in  an  in  curve  which  changed  to  an  out  as 
the  batter  struck  at  it. 

Plunk! 

The  side  was  out,  and  the  spectators  were  going 
crazy.  Frank  left  the  diamond  and  sought  for  Swift- 
wing.  He  could  not  find  the  Pueblo,  nor  did  any  one 
seem  to  know  what  had  become  of  him.  He  looked  up 
into  the  grand  stand  and  saw  that  Lucy  Livingston 
was  also  missing. 

"She  promised  to  come  right  back,  but  she  hasn't 
done  it !"  he  heard  one  of  the  girls  in  the  group  say, 
and  knew  they  were  speaking  of  Lucy. 

A  strange  foreboding  that  he  would  not  put  into 
words  and  refused  to  harbor  even  in  his 


Swiftwing  Turned  Down.          291 

came  to  him.  He  heard  Hodge  talking  about  Swift- 
wing,  but  did  not  want  to  listen  to  what  Hodge  was 
saying,  and  looked  at  Curringer,  who  was  going  into 
the  box,  while  the  other  members  of  the  Wabeek  nine 
were  taking  their  places. 

Curringer  had  steadied  himself  and  began  to  pitch 
with  wonderful  nerve  and  self-control.  He  had  never 
seemed  to  do  so  well,  and  Frank  saw  that  it  was  to  be 
a  pitcher's  battle. 

"How's  your  wrist?"  asked  Hodge,  looking  anx- 
iously at  it. 

"It  might  be  better.  But  don't  let  that  trouble  you. 
[We're  going  to  win  this  game !" 

Curringer  in  this  inning  came  up  against  the  tail-end 
of  Merriwell's  batting-list,  and  so  had  comparatively 
easy  work.  After  two  strikes  had  been  called  on  him, 
Carker,  who  was  first  up,  flied  out  to  the  first-baseman. 
Bink  and  Danny,  who  came  next  in  order,  were  struck 
out  with  a  bewildering  swiftness  that  made  their  little 
heads  swim. 

Ogle  was  the  first  batter  to  face  Merriwell,  and, 
though  he  did  not  like  the  way  Merriwell  had  been 
striking  men  out,  he  came  up  with  a  grin,  for  he 
thought  he  knew  something  of  the  kinks  of  that  double- 
shoot.  But  Ogle  went  out  on  three  strikes  from  three 
pitched  balls  that  came  at  him  in  such  an  erratic  way 
that  he  was  not  able  to  touch  them,  and  he  was  quickly 
followed  by  Kirk  and  Curringeir. 


292  Swiftwing  Turned  Down. 

"I'll  do  you  fellows  up  the  same  way,"  thought 
Wabeek  pitcher,  as  he  walked.toward  the  box. 

But  he  did  not.  Ready  singled  into  the  right  field, 
after  two  strikes  had  been  called  on  him,  and  was  fol- 
lowed by  Gamp  with  another  single  that  gave  Ready; 
third.  Then  Gamp  stole  second  when  Bruce  came  to 
the  bat.  Bruce,  after  one  ball  and  two  strikes,  knocked 
one  into  Severing's  hands,  and  Curringer,  getting  the 
ball  quickly  from  Severing,  put  Ready  out  at  the  home 
plate.  Then  a  fly  from  Hodge  into  the  hands  of  the 
first-baseman  retired  the  side  without  a  score.  And 
the  score  still  stood  five  for  the  Wabeeks  to  four  for 
the  Merriwells. 

The  spectators  went  wild  when  Merriwell  repeated 
his  previous  performance  and  struck  out  in  succession 
the  three  men  who  faced  him. 

"He's  the  stuff!"  the  boys  were  yelling. 

It  required  a  nerve  of  iron  to  do  this,  for  Merriwell's 
wrist  was  horribly  painful.  But  he  intended  to  win 
this  game,  as  he  had  told  Hodge,  and,  though  the 
wrench  to  his  wrist  was  sometimes  enough  to  bring  a 
cry  from  the  lips  of  any  other  man,  he  only  smiled  as 
man  after  man  went  out  and  gave  no  sign. 

Merriwell  was  first  at  the  bat  now,  taking  Swift- 
wing's  place,  and,  though  Curringer  tried  to  fool  him 
with  drops  and  curves,  Frank  waited  until  he  received 
a  ball  that  suited  him  and  sent  a  grounder  past  the 
short-stop  and  gained  first. 


Swift  wing  Turned  Down.          293 

Rattleton  followed  him  at  the  bat,  and,  though  close- 
ly watched  by  both  Curringer  and  Gait,  Frank  made  a 
steal  for  second  on  the  second  pitched  ball.  Gait 
promptly  lined  it  down  to  Kirk,  who  was  on  second, 
but  Frank  threw  himself  forward  in  a  desperate  slide 
and  had  his  hand  on  the  bag  a  trifle  before  the  ball 
struck  in  Kirk's  hands. 

"Out !"  the  Wabeeks  were  yelling. 

"Safe,  second!"  said  the  umpire. 

But  Frank  was  not  able  to  get  away  from  second. 
He  was  narrowly  watched.  Rattleton  and  Carker 
struck  out,  and  Bink  knocked  a  fly  into  the  hands  of 
the  third-baseman. 

A  fierce  pitcher's  battle  between  Merrtwell  and  Cur- 
ringer  followed  this,  each  doing  such  exceptionally  fine 
work  that  the  crowd  went  wildly  mad,  shouting  and 
shrieking  like  maniacs,  and  no  score  was  made  by 
either  side  until  the  first  half  of  the  ninth  inning,  when 
Merriwell's  team  was  again  at  the  bat.  Merriwell's 
wrist  was  getting  worse  and  worse.  He  had  never 
'done  finer  work,  though  under  such  a  disadvantage 
and  in  such  pain.  But  his  nerve  of  iron  still  sus- 
tained him,  and  he  seemed  in  as  fine  condition  in  this 
opening  of  the  ninth  inning  as  at  any  time  during  the 
game. 

Gamp  came  up  first. 

"I'll  strike  you  out,  you  farmer,  in  short  order  f" 


294          Swiftwing  Turned  Down. 

thought  Curringer,  for  he  had  been  doing  that  thing 
right  along.  And  he  struck  Gamp  out. 

But  he  was  more  afraid  of  Bruce,  for  Bruce  had  a 
way  of  driving  balls  that  was  enough  to  make  any; 
pitcher  nervous.  Rather  than  have  Browning  get  a 
chance  to  drive  out  a  two-bagger  or  a  three-bagger, 
Curringer  deliberately  gave  him  his  base  on  balls. 

Hodge  came  next  and  put  up  a  high  infield  fly,  which 
was  collected  by  the  first-baseman ;  and  two  men  were 
out. 

Merriwell  took  the  bat  in  place  of  Swiftwing.  Cur- 
ringer was  still  in  fine  fettle  and  supremely  confident. 
He  grinned  as  Frank  walked  into  position. 

"I'll  bet  you  a  hundred  dollars  that  you  can't  knock: 
another  ball  into  the  lake,  as  you  did  in  the  otheii 
game !" 

Frank  looked  at  the  lake.  This  distance  was  long, 
but  he  had  done  it  once,  and  what  has  been  done  may 
be  done  again.  Still,  he  did  not  answer  Curringer's 
taunt. 

"I'd  be  willing  to  bet  you  a  hundred  dollars  that  you 
can't  hit  me!"  Curringer  laughed,  after  the  first  ball 
had  been  sent  in  and  was  called  a  strike. 

Then  two  balls  were  called,  and  still  Frank  patiently 
waited  for  one  that  he  liked.  When  it  came  it  was  an 
out  curve,  and,  catching  it  on  the  end  of  his  "wagon- 
tongue,"  he  drove  it  into  the  lake. 

Bruce,  playing  off  first  in  readiness,  now  fairly  flew, 


Swiftwing  Turned  Down.  295 

while  Frank  went  blythely  down  to  first,  and  on  around 
to  second,  third  and  home,  closely  following  Brown- 
ing in.  Two  scores  had  been  added  to  the  Merriwells' 
list,  which  now  stood  six  in  their  favor  to  five  for  the 
Wabeeks. 

The  boys  howled,  Rattleton  reversed  his  words  and 
sentences,  so  that  his  talk  seemed  gibberish,  while  Bink 
and  Danny  fairly  hugged  each  other. 

"Ain't  he  hot  stuff!"  one  of  the  boys  was  heard 
shrilly  piping. 

Curringer  felt  sick  and  looked  white  round  the 
mouth,  but  he  managed  to  strike  out  Rattleton  and  put 
out  the  side. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A     NERVE     OF     IRON. 

As  Merriwell  went  into  the  box  in  the  last  half  ol 
the  ninth  inning,  both  nines  as  well  as  the  spectators 
knew  that  the  tug  of  war  had  now  come. 

Kirk  came  up  first,  looking  grim  and  determined, 
but  Merriwell  struck  him  out  with  balls  -that  came  even 
more  swiftly  than  any  ever  thrown  by  John  Swiftwing. 

Curringer  was  next,  and  he  forced  a  grin  to  his 
face  as  he  stepped  into  position.  He  was  not  only  a 
good  pitcher,  but  a  good  batter,  and  the  best  ball- 
player in  the  Wabeek  nine.  Frank  respected  his  abili- 
ties, and  he  had  been  forced  mentally  to  admit  that  he 
had  never  come  up  against  Merriwell's  equal.  After 
one  ball  and  two  strikes,  Curringer  got  one  of  Merri- 
well's straight  balls  and  lined  it  down  to  short-stop.  It 
came  so  hot  that  Bink  dropped  it,  and  Curringer  took 
first. 

When  Wadkins  came  to  the  bat  Curringer  began  to 
play  off  toward  second,  and  on  the  first  pitched  ball  he 
made  a  desperate  run.  The  coacher  was  shrieking  and 
the  crowd  roaring  as  Hodge  lined  the  ball  down  to 
Rattleton,  and  Curringer  threw  himself  in  a  great  slide. 

"Out !"  came  from  hundreds  of  throats. 

But  the  umpire  favored  Curringer  and  called  il 
"Safe!" 


A  Nerve  of  Iron.  297 

"Now,  if  luck  favors  us,"  Curringer  was  thinking, 
as  he  again  began  to  play  off,  "we'll  tie  that  score, 
anyway !  I  hope  Wadkins  will  belt  it  into  the  lake !" 

Wadkins  was  a  good  and  hard  hitter,  and  Curringer 
really  expected  something  from  him  now.  The  ex- 
citement was  feverish,  as  "One  ball!"  "One  strike!" 
"Two  strikes!"  were  called. 

Then  Frank  signaled  to  Hodge  and  sent  in  the 
double-shoot,  and  struck  out  Wadkins.  Curringer 
fumed,  while  the  spectators  howled  hoarsely. 

Gait,  who  came  next,  was  also  a  good  batter,  and 
Curringer,  closely  watched  by  Frank,  kept  playing  off 
for  a  good  lead,  while  the  coachers  at  first  and  third 
kept  up  a  continual  chatter  in  the  hope  of  rattling  the 
pitcher. 

After  one  ball  and  one  strike,  Frank  gave  Gait  a  low 
drop,  which  he  did  not  think  he  could  get,  and  the 
batter  lifted  a  long  fly  into  the  left  field.  The  coachers 
became  frantic,  the  crowd  bellowed,  and  Curringer 
made  a  dash  for  third.  Carker  did  not  get  well  under 
the  ball  and  dropped  it.  The  coachers  shrieked  to 
Curringer  to  go  home,  which  he  did,  and  the  score 
was  tied. 

The  Athletic  Team  felt  blue  as  they  heard  the  yells  of 
the  Wabeek  rooters,  and  Hodge  was  fairly  sick  with 
disappointment. 

"Oh,  if  that  had  only  been  Joe  Gamp!"  he  groaned. 
He  had  thought  the  game  won.  But  Merriwell  seemed 


298  A  Nerve  of  Iron. 

still  confident,  and  smiled  placidly,  while  his  wrist 
throbbed  as  it  had  never  throbbed  before. 

"We  will  do  them  yet !"  was  his  thought.  "We  will 
do  them  yet!" 

Gait  was  on  first,  and  the  next  man  up  was  Sever- 
ing, whom  Frank  promptly  struck  out  with  the  dottble- 
shoot.  And  the  side  was  out.  Curringer's  grin  had 
something  determined  about  it  as  he  now  went  into  the 
box,  and  he  showed  the  stuff  that  was  in  him  by 
quickly  striking  out  Carker. 

Then  Stubbs  came  up,  with  a  bored  look  on  his  face. 
Curringer  nearly  always  expected  him  to  be  easy,  but 
was  often  surprised.  But  everything  seemed  going  on 
in  the  old  way,  for  two  strikes  were  quickly  called,  and 
the  bored  look  lingered.  Then  Bink's  eyes  suddenly 
flashed,  as  he  saw  a  ball  coming  that  he  thought  he 
could  hit.  He  did  hit  it,  sending  it  far  out  into  deep 
center  and  into  the  very  bunch  of  bushes  which  Joe 
Gamp  had  seemed  trying  to  tear  up  just  before  making 
his  great  throw. 

Severing  was  after  the  ball  like  a  race-horse,  but  he 
did  not  find  it  readily,  and  when  he  threw  he  was 
forced  to  throw  to  the  pitcher,  instead  of  home.  In 
the  meantime  Stubbs  was  going  round  the  bases  like  a 
runaway  automobile,  while  the  coachers  were  shriek- 
ing and  howling,  and  the  spectators,  with  throats 
grown  sore  by  over-exercise,  were  hoarsely  bellowing. 

Before  Curringer  could  get  the  ball  hom*  *mlc 


A  Nerve  of  Iron.  299 

scored,  amid  a  perfect  tempest  of  noise.  The  crew  of 
the  little  steamer  out  in  the  lake  had  also  witnessed  the 
performance,  and  the  screech  of  the  steamer's  whistle 
added  to  the  unearthly  din.  The  grin  was  going1  from 
Curringer's  face,  and  he  again  looked  sick,  but  he 
pulled  himself  together  with  iron  determination,  and 
quickly  struck  out  Danny  and  Ready. 

The  second  half  of  the  tenth  inning  began  with  a 
score  of  seven  to  six  in  favor  of  the  Athletic  Team. 

"We've  one  score  in  the  lead,  and  we  will  keep  it!" 
Frank  determinedly  thought,  even  though  his  wrist 
seemed  weak  and  failing,  and  jumped  with  pain. 

It  was  the  nerve  of  iron ! 

"Don't  swing  until  you're  pretty  sure!"  Kirk  whis<- 
pered  to  Severing,  as  the  batter  went  to  the  bat.  Sev- 
ering could  never  be  sure,  for  every  pitched  ball,  and 
there  were  only  three  of  them,  was  a  double-shoot. 

"Three  strikes,  out !"  said  the  umpire,  and  Severing 
threw  down  the  bat  in  disgust. 

"The  devil  can't  hit  him !"  he  growled. 

"Well,  I  hope  I'm  not  the  devil,  but  I'm  going  to 
try !"  said  Putnam,  as  he  took  the  bat. 

But  old  Put  went  out  on  three  pitched  balls,  each  of 
which  was  the  double-shoot.  The  Atheltic  Team  was 
filled  with  joy,  the  boys  were  screeching,  and  again 
the  crowd  was  bellowing. 

Mason  came  up,  looking  pale  and  anxious,  but  reso* 


3oo  A  Nerve  of  Iron. 

lute.  The  ball  whistled  over  the  plate,  and  he  did  nofr 
strike. 

"One  strike !"  said  the  umpire. 

Then  Frank  gave  him  an  out  curve  that  changed  to 
an  in  close  to  the  bat.  Mason  did  not  swing.  He 
knew  that  he  was  not  to  get  any  "easy"  balls,  but  he 
did  hope  he  could  get  something  that  would  give  him 
at  least  a  chance. 

'Two  strikes!" 

Again  Frank's  arm  went  up,  while  the  crowd  grew 
as  still  as  death.  Not  even  a  boy  piped  a  note.  The 
whole  vast  throng  seemed  to  be  holding  its  breath. 
Even  the  face  of  the  umpire  was  shining  and  flushed. 
The  ball  came  across  the  plate,  and  Mason  swung  at  it, 
feeling  that  it  was  his  last  chance.  It  was  an  in  curve, 
changing  to  an  out. 

Plunk! 

Bart  Hodge  had  the  ball. 

"Three  strikes,  out !"  the  umpire  fairly  shouted. 

Then  the  ball-field  went  mad.  Curringer  walked 
down  toward  the  pitcher's  box  as  the  Athletic  Team 
came  whooping  from  the  field.  His  air  was  deferen- 
tial and  admiring.  He  extended  his  hand. 

"Merriwell,"  he  frankly  confessed,  "I  have  never 
met  your  equal.  I  never  expect  to  see  such  pitching, 
unless  I  see  you  again  in  such  a  fight  as  this.  You 
are  the  greatest  baseball-pitcher  in  the  United  States !" 

Kirk  was  crowding  forward  with  words  of  praise, 


A  Nerve  of  Iron.  301 

with  others  of  the  Wabeeks,  while  baseball  enthusiasts 
by  the  score  began  to  fight  their  way  toward  Frank, 
eager  to  touch  the  hand  that  had  done  such  wonderful 
work. 

"Yale  will  be  glad,  when  she  hears  of  this!"  Kirk 
declared,  and  his  face,  too,  shone  with  enthusiasm. 
"Merriwell,  you're  all  right !" 

It  was  the  end  of  the  greatest  ball-game  ever  played 
in  the  Adirondacks. 

Scarcely  had  the  enthusiasm  subsided  when  the 
proprietor  of  the  Lake  View  hurried  up  to  Frank 
and  excitedly  whispered: 

"I'm  sure  that  Indian  has  carried  off  Lucy  Living- 
ston!" 

It  was  staggering  news.  Bart  Hodge  heard  it,  and 
his  face  flamed  with  wrath. 

"I've  been  expecting  something  of  the  kind!"  he 
declared.  "I  have  felt  it  all  day.  Merry,  we  must  trjj 
to  rescue  her !" 

"Certainly,  Hodge,  if " 

"No  ifs  about  it!"  Hodge  furiously  burst  out.  "1 
know  that  it's  true.  The  red  scoundrel.  I'll " 

"I  really  think  it  is  true,  Merriwell,"  said  the  pro- 
prietor. "She  went  out  to  talk  to  him  after  he  was 
taken  from  the  pitcher's  box.  I  think,  she  meant  only 
to  say  something  that  would  make  his  failure  in  the 
box  seem  less  painful  to  him.  They  walked  away  to- 
gether in  that  direction;  and  neither  has  been  seen 


302  A  Nerve  of  Iron. 

since.  My  wife  was  the  first  to  take  the  alarm;  and 
we  have  been  making  a  search.  I've  found  a  place 
where  a  struggle  occurred — and  this !" 

He  held  up  a  torn  piece  of  the  dress  which  Lucy  had 
worn  that  day. 

"Delancy  is  wild,  and  he  charges  it  all  to  you  for 
having  the  Indian  on  your  team.  She  would  not  have 
noticed  him  as  a  guide,  but  she  is  crazy  over  athletes 
and  men  of  that  stamp." 

Hodge  started  toward  the  timber  pointed  out. 

"What  do  you  mean  to  do  ?"  Merriwell  asked. 

"I'm  going  to  take  a  look,  and  I'm  going  to  find 
ffohn  Swiftwing!" 

The  tone  was  terrible. 

"I'll  go  with  you,"  said  Frank,  looking  troubled. 

"Oh,  I  know  it's  so !"  Hodge  panted,  as  they  hurried 
along  together.  "That's  just  the  way  he  did  with 
Inza,  you'll  remember." 

"But  he  surrendered  Inza." 

"When  he  was  pursued  and  he  knew  he  could  not 
escape,  yes!  How  do  you  know  that  he  would  have 
done  it  otherwise?  He's  an  Indian,  and  the  Indian 
blood  is  there!" 

Frank  thought  of  Swiftwing's  words  as  he  walked 
from  the  box : 

"I  am  an  Indian,  and  I  might  as  well  play  Indian !" 

Merriwell  had  a  foreboding  of  trouble,  but  he  did 
not  think  the  trouble  would  come  in  this  shape.  The 


A  Nerve  of  Iron,  303 

Lake  View  proprietor  hastened  after  them,  after 
speaking  some  words  to  a  man  who  had  come  out 
with  him.  He  called  to  Merriwell,  and  Frank  and 
Hodge  stopped  to  wait  for  him  to  overtake  them. 
Then  the  three  went  on  to  the  spot  where  a  struggle 
was  supposed  to  have  occurred,  and  where  the  torn 
piece  of  dress  had  been  found.  Merriwell  glanced  at 
Hodge  and  listened  to  his  words.  He  did  not  remem- 
ber to  have  seen  Hodge  in  a  greater  rage. 

"Perhaps  Bart  has  been  more  interested  in  that  girl 
than  I  believed!"  was  his  thought. 

"Right  here !"  said  their  guide,  leading  them  round 
a  point  which  concealed  them  from  the  hotel  and  base- 
ball-grounds. 

"She  must  have  screamed,  of  course !"  the  man  con- 
tinued. "But  the  people  on  the  ball-grounds  were 
howling  so  it  couldn't  have  been  heard,  no  matter  what 
an  outcry  she  might  have  made." 

He  was  anxious  and  troubled,  for  he  was  not  only 
an  honest  man  and  solicitous  for  the  welfare  of  the 
guests  of  his  house,  but  he  had  taken  a  strong  and 
fatherly  liking  far  sweet-faced  Lucy  Livingston. 

"Where  is  Delancy?"  Merriwell  asked,  as  he  be- 
gan to  look  the  ground  carefully  over. 

"Out  with  a  searching-party.  Two  parties  are 
already  out,  and  another  is  going.  There  will  be 
others  in  the  woods  soon.  We'll  run  the  fellow  down, 
and " 


304  A  Nerve  of  Iron. 

He  did  not  complete  the  sentence,  but  the  break  was 
more  eloquent  than  words. 

"He  will  be  lynched?" 

"Or  shot  on  sight!" 

"See  here!"  Bart  cried.    "Look  at  that,  Merry!" 

It  was  the  imprint  of  the  toe  of  a  little  boot,  such 
i  one  as  Lucy  had  worn. 

"And  this!"  said  Frank,  picking  up  another  torn 
piece  of  the  dress  that  he  had  seen  Lucy  wear. 

"And  I'd  swear  that  print  was  made  by  Swiftwing's 
shoe!"  growled  Bart. 

The  soil  held  an  imprint  of  a  pitcher's  shoe,  the 
toe-plate  having  made  a  distinct  impression. 

"Yes,  Swif twing  wore  that  shoe !" 

"I'm  going  back  to  the  house  and  see  about  those 
other  parties  that  are  going  out !"  said  the  Lake  View 
oroprietor ;  and  hurried  away  without  further  words. 

Merriwell  knew  that  in  a  little  while  the  news  of 
the  abduction  of  Lucy  Livingston  by  John  Swift- 
wing  would  be  in  every  mouth,  and  that  the  woods  and 
hills  would  be  filled  with  armed  bodies  of  men  hunting 
him  down  as  they  would  have  hunted  down  a  rabid 
dog  or  a  wolf.  And  he  knew  that,  when  overtaken, 
Swiftwing  would  be  given  scant  chance  to  say  whether 
he  was  innocent  or  guilty. 

He  began  to  search  for  a  trail  leading  from  the 
place,  though  beyond  the  clump  of  bushes  and  the  tim- 
ber belt  the  soil  was  hard  and  ledgy  and  the  chances 


A  Nerve  of  Iron.  305 

of  discovering  anything  were  not  good.  Hodge  fol- 
lowed him,  looking  everywhere  for  indications  of  the 
direction  taken  by  Swiftwing. 

They  passed  over  the  brow  of  a  hill,  and  there  found 
a  broken  twig,  which  seemed  to  have  been  snapped  off 
in  a  struggle  similar  to  the  one  whose  indications  they 
had  so  closely  examined. 

"There's  a  path  just  beyond  there,  where  I  stumbled 
into  the  other  day,"  said  Frank.  "It  leads  to  a  cabin 
down  under  the  edge  of  the  mountain!" 

Hodge  leaped  past  him  in  the  direction  indicated, 
and  Merriwell  followed.  Of  course,  he  could  not 
know  that  any  further  indications  would  be  found  in 
the  path  or  at  that  cabin,  though  there  was  a  possibility 
that  Swiftwing  might  have  taken  the  girl  there. 

The  path  wound  here  and  there  through  the  woods, 
which  were  tangled  and  difficult,  dipping  now  under 
the  brow  of  a  cliff  and  then  scaling  a  ledgy  hill,  lead- 
ing on  and  on  toward  the  heart  of  the  Great  North 
Woods.  But  no  indications  that  Lucy  or  Swiftwing 
had  passed  that  way  were  discoverable. 

"The  cabin  is  just  below  here!''  said  Frank,  when 
they  stopped  at  length  near  the  crest  of  a  hill. 

Their  surroundings  were  the  wildest  imaginable. 
Hills  that  were  almost  mountains  rose  near  them,  and 
the  rocky  surface  was  cut  up  with  deep  gullies  and  dry 
water-courses. 


306  A  Nerve  of  Iron. 

"The  wolf  would  make  for  a  hole  like  this !"  Hodge 
panted. 

"Only  that  it  is  too  near  the  hotels !  Still,  we  can't 
be  absolutely  sure  that  Swiftwing  is  guilty.  I  want 
you  to  remember  that,  Bart,  if  we  should  chance  to 
come  on  him.  Don't  do  anything  rash !" 

"Merry,  you  make  me  tired!  You  make  me  sick! 
[You  will  try  to  stand  up  for  that — fellow!  That 
scoundrel !  If  I  come  on  him,  I'll  simply  hammer  him 
to  pieces !" 

"It's  always  well  to  be  sure!" 

"I  am  sure!" 

"You  can't  be  sure,  on  this  evidence.  If  Swiftwing 
is  guilty,  he  deserves  no  mercy,  and  he  will  receive 
none  from  me !" 

"He  is  guilty.  I  knew  it  as  soon  as  the  Lake  View 
man  spoke.  Of  course,  he's  guilty!  He's  simply  a 
dog!" 

He  started  on. 

"Wait!  There  are  two  paths  to  that  cabin.  One 
lies  across  here  toward  that  bluff.  The  other  goes 
through  that  belt  of  trees.  You  take  the  first  and  I'll 
take  the  second.  It  will  increase  our  chances  of  seeing 
him,  if  he  should  be  there!" 

Bart  leaped  along  the  path  toward  the  bluff  before 
the  words  were  fairly  out  of  Frank's  mouth ;  and,  see- 
ing how  he  was  hurrying,  Merriwell  took  the  other 
path  and  hastened  on,  too. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A     TERRIFIC     COMBAT. 

The  path  taken  by  Merriwell  was  the  shortest,  and 
he  arrived  at  the  cabin  first,  only  to  find  it  empty.  A 
minute  later  Hodge  burst  into  view,  wildly  excited. 

"Swiftwing!  There  he  goes!"  Bart  whispered. 
"He  has  taken  the  alarm  and  is  cutting  out." 

Merriwell  looked  in  the  direction  pointed  out  and 
saw  the  head  of  the  Pueblo  disappear  some  distance 
away  in  the  bushes. 

"But  the  girl?" 

"Come  on!"  Hodge  snarled,  and  leaped  away  like 
an  unleashed  greyhound.  Merriwell  followed  Hodge, 
but  the  latter  dived  into  some  undergrowth  to  take 
a  short  cut,  and  when  Frank  gained  the  spot  where  he 
had  vanished  the  only  trace  of  his  friend  was  a  rustling 
of  low  boughs  some  distance  ahead. 

Bart  was  wildly  anxious  to  overtake  Swiftwing  and 
dashed  on  without  Merriwell,  soon  finding  himself 
alone.  But  he  continued  straight  on  toward  the  point 
where  he  had  seen  the  Indian;  and  there  discovered 
a  dim  and  almost  undefined  path  leading  along  a  bush- 
grown  hillside. 

He  followed  this  as  rapidly  as  he  could.  It  soon 
vanished  altogether,  but  still  Hodge  Dressed  on.  taking 


308  A  Terrific  Combat. 

the  general  direction,  hoping  every  moment  that  he 
would  be  able  to  overtake  the  man  he  was  so  fiercely 
pursuing. 

"When  I  do  come  on  him,  I'll  make  him  tell  where 
the  girl  is  mighty  quick!"  he  kept  growling.  "I 
don't  believe  she  is  with  him,  he  is  traveling  so  fast!" 

Then  Hodge  turned  a  rocky  headland  and  came 
upon  a  scene  that  set  him  wild.  A  cabin  stood  in  a 
cleft  of  the  rocks,  on  the  edge  of  a  bluff — a  hunter's 
cabin — and  out  of  it  reeled  Lucy  Livingston,  closely 
followed  by  John  Jackson,  Pike  Conner,  and  two  other 
rough-looking  men,  all  of  them  woodsmen  or  guides. 

As  she  reeled  out  of  the  cabin  in  an  effort  to  get 
away  from  her  pursuers,  Lucy  Livingston  gave  a 
scream.  Her  clothing  was  torn  and  her  manner  fran- 
tic. 

"You  hounds!"  Hodge  yelled,  as  he  made  a  mad 
dash  for  the  cabin,  feeling  that  these  men  were  either 
Swiftwing's  confederates,  or  that  she  had  escaped  from 
the  Pueblo  only  to  fall  into  their  power.  "Back,  you 
dogs!" 

Lucy  heard  the  words  and  imploringly  ran  to- 
ward him. 

She  was  light  of  foot,  and  fear  gave  her  speed.  But 
Jackson,  the  gigantic  athlete  of  the  Great  North 
Woods,  was  close  after  her,  with  Pike  Conner  and 
the  others  at  his  heels. 


A  Terrific  Combat    «,  309 

"Save  me !  save  me !"  Lucy  pleaded,  as  she  reached 
Hodge's  side. 

Bart  put  her  tenderly  behind  him. 

"I  will,  or  die  trying!"  he  gritted,  as  he  resolutely 
confronted  Jackson. 

"What's  this  to  you  ?"  Jackson  howled.  "I'll  smash 
you!" 

He  flew  at  Hodge  as  if  he  would  hurl  him  over 
the  bluff  which  yawned  frightfully  near,  but  received 
at  blow  squarely  between  the  eyes  that  knocked  him 
backward  against  Conner.  In  another  moment  Con- 
ner came  at  Bart  with  the  rush  of  a  savage  dog,  only 
to  reel  back  in  the  same  way. 

"Down  with  him !"  Jackson  commanded,  recovering 
and  again  springing  toward  the  defiant  youth. 

"Run  for  it!"  said  Hodge  to  the  girl.  "I'll  hold 
them  back."  He  stood  squarely  in  the  narrow  path, 
courageously  facing  the  four  men,  each  of  whom  was 
larger  than  he. 

The  narrowness  of  the  path  was  an  advantage  to 
Bart,  for  it  kept  the  men  from  leaping  all  together 
upon  him.  It  was  wide  enough  for  two,  however,  and 
three  might  have  crowded  along  it. 

In  spite  of  Hodge's  command,  Lucy  stood,  or, 
rather,  crouched,  like  one  dazed,  with  her  hands 
clasped  and  her  face  as  white  as  marble.  Jackson 
flung  himself  at  Bart,  with  a  sledge-hammer  blow. 


Jio  A  Terrific  Combat 

which  the  dauntless  youth  knocked  aside.  Then  the 
iron  fist  again  found  the  woodman's  face. 

The  fight  that  followed  was  terrific  in  its  fury. 
Again  and  again  Hodge  knocked  down  the  men  who 
came  at  him,  receiving  and  returning  blows  with 
lightning  swiftness,  all  four  of  the  men  pushing  to- 
ward him  and  hammering  at  him.  Twice  Jackson 
went  down,  and  Conner's  nose  poured  a  stream  of 
blood.  One  of  the  other  men  was  almost  knocked 
from  the  bluff  and  only  saved  himself  by  catching  at 
a  projecting  rock. 

Bart  brought  into  play  all  the  skill  he  had  gained 
at  Yale;  and,  stilling  his  heart  and  throbbing  nerves, 
he  fought  with  a  coolness  and  effectiveness  that  was 
simply  marvelous.  But  a  single  youth,  even  though 
that  youth  was  Bart  Hodge,  could  not  stand  up  long 
before  such  men  as  Jackson  and  his  friends;  and  a 
blow  from  Jackson's  fist  finally  sent  him  reeling  and 
senseless  into  the  path. 

Lucy  gave  a  scream  and  ran  toward  Bart  when  she 
saw  him  fall,  apparently  forgetful  of  herself  and 
anxious  only  for  the  noble  fellow  who  had  so  gal- 
lantly sought  to  defend  her. 

"Throw  him  over  the  bluff!"  snarled  Conner,  look- 
ing like  a  fiend  with  his  clothing  covered  with  blood. 

"That's  right!"  Jackson  howled,  beside  himself 
with  rage  and  pain.  "Over  with  him!" 

"You  shall  not!"  Lucy  screamed,  th:?"''"^  herself 


A  Terrific  Combat.  311 

upon  Bart's  unconscious  form  and  clasping1  him  as 
if  she  would  protect  him  with  her  weak  hands.  "You 
shall  not!" 

"Won't  we !"  Jackson  hoarsely  laughed. 

He  reached  forward  to  tear  her  from  her  position, 
while  his  face  writhed  with  vindictive  triumph. 

The  bushes  rustled  and  a  light  step  sounded,  as  a 
form  sprang  swiftly  along  the  path. 

"Back,  you  wolves!" 

It  was  the  voice  of  John  Swiftwing. 

"I  have  searched  for  you  and  I  have  found  you!" 
Swiftwing  hissed,  as  he  swung  at  the  head  of  Jack- 
son, while  his  black  eyes  burned  like  coals  of  fire. 

The  smallest  of  the  men,  who  had  been  sitting  up 
and  ruefully  nursing  sundry  bruises  and  cuts  on  his 
face  when  the  Pueblo  appeared,  scrambled  to  his  feet 
and  ran  back  toward  the  cabin  for  the  purpose  of  se- 
curing a  revolver  which  had  been  left  there  on  a  table. 

Lucy  screamed  and  protectingly  clung  to  Hodge  as 
she  saw  Swiftwing. 

"You  fool !"  Jackson  howled,  evading  the  blow  and 
striking  back  at  the  Indian  youth.  "I'll  kill  you !" 

"Pitch  him  over  the  bluff!"  yelled  Conner,  coming1 
to  his  chief's  assistance.  The  other  woodsman  also 
jumped  at  Swiftwing  and  sought  to  strike  him  with 
a  club  on  which  his  hands  had  fallen  when  he  went 
down  that  last  time  under  Bart's  hammering  fists. 

But  Swiftwing  had  not  forgotten  the  training  he 


}  12  A  Terrific  Combat 

had  received  at  Carlisle.  Football  and  baseball  ancl 
athletics  had  hardened  his  muscles  and  given  them 
skill,  and  his  life  since  in  the  woods  and  under  the 
open  sky  had  strung  his  frame  on  sinews  of  steel. 

Duckingly  avoiding  Jackson's  sledge-hammer  blow, 
he  planted  his  right  in  Conner's  bleeding  face,  and 
with  his  left  doubled  up  the  third  man  with  a  terrific 
punch  in  the  abdomen,  which  hurled  him  back  on 
the  rocks  and  sent  the  club  flying  from  the  ledge. 

The  missed  blow  threw  Jackson  forward  on  his 
face ;  and  before  he  could  recover,  Conner  lunged  over 
him,  bloody  and  frantic,  trying  to  hit  the  Pueblo. 

"Take  that!"  he  screeched,  fairly  screaming  the 
words. 

"And  that!"  hissed  Swiftwing,  coming  again  with 
that  terrible  left  and  lifting  Conner  from  the  rocks 
with  a  blow  in  the  eye. 

Conner  went  down  like  a  collapsing  house.  But 
Jackson  had  gathered  himself  and  again  swung  at 
the  Indian.  His  blow  missed,  and  he  then  gathered 
Swiftwing  round  the  waist  in  a  furious  attempt  to  lift 
him  from  his  feet  and  throw  him  from  the  bluff  into 
the  rocky  brook-bed  far  below. 

The  Pueblo  could  not  shake  off  that  hold,  and  the 
combatants  began  to  weave  and  stagger  to  and  fro 
on  the  edge  of  the  abyss,  each  exerting  all  his  strength 
and  skill  to  hurl  the  other  from  the  rocks. 

Lucv  Livingston  crouched  in  the  path,  wild-eyed 


A  Terrific  Combat.  313 

and  panting,  with  dry  throat  and  speechless  lips, 
filled  with  an  awful  horror.  It  seemed  to  her  that 
Hodge  was  dead,  and  she  instantly  expected  to  see 
the  Pueblo  hurled  over  to  his  destruction.  Twice  she 
staggered  to  her  feet,  as  if  she  would  rush  into  the 
combat  to  the  assistance  of  the  Indian  youth,  but  each 
time  her  strength  and  courage  failed  and  she  sank 
down  moaning. 

The  man  who  had  gone  for  the  revolver  came  run- 
ning along  the  path,  and  the  woodsman  who  had  been 
knocked  out  with  the  blow  in  the  abdomen  writhingly 
sought  to  get  on  his  feet.  But  Conner  sat  dully  on 
the  rocks  with  hands  on  his  eye  and  seemed  not  to 
know  what  was  taking  place. 

And  the  while  Swiftwing  and  Jackson  were  strug- 
gling fiercely  for  the  mastery.  Neither  spoke  a  word, 
but  their  heavy  breathing  and  the  tread  of  their  feet 
as  they  reeled  to  and  fro  had  an  awful  sound  to  the 
girl  who  crouched  beside  the  unconscious  form  of 
Bart  Hodge  as  if  frozen  in  fear. 

At  last  Swiftwing  got  Jackson  by  the  throat  and 
began  to  push  him  toward  the  edge  of  the  precipice. 
Jackson  gurgled  and  struggled  in  vain.  Back,  back, 
he  went,  inch  by  inch.  Then  the  Pueblo  gathered 
himself  for  a  mighty  effort,  and  with  a  hiss  that 
sounded  as  deadly  as  the  warning  of  a  viper,  he  lifted 
the  big  woodsman. 

A  howl  of  fear  went  up  from  Jackson's  throat 


314  A  Terrific  Combat. 

Crush — crush ! 

The  butt  of  the  revolver  came  down  on  Swiftwmg*s 
head,  followed  by  a  blow  in  the  ear  from  the  fist  of 
the  other  woodsman. 

And  John  Swiftwing  sank  down  as  senseless  as 
Bart  Hodge! — John  Swiftwing,  who  had  never  har- 
bored a  thought  of  carrying  Lucy  away;  but,  having 
heard  her  scream,  had  hurried  back  to  her,  found  the 
signs  of  the  struggle  and  of  the  abduction,  and  had 
dashed  in  pursuit 

The  sight  of  the  Pueblo  stricken  down  in  that  way 
loosed  the  tongue  of  Lucy  Livingston.  She  leaped 
up  with  a  cry  and  started  to  run,  but  the  woodsman 
with  the  revolver  caught  her  by  the  arm  and  drew 
her  back.  Jackson  dropped  dangerously  near  the  edge 
of  the  abyss. 

"Shall  we  heave  'em  over?"  one  of  the  woodsmen 
demanded,  giving  the  Pueblo  a  kick.  "Dead  men  tell 
no  tales!" 

The  words  brought  Conner  out  of  his  queer  men- 
tal state.  He  looked  up,  a  frightful  object,  with  his 
closing  eye  and  bleeding  face. 

"No!"  he  hoarsely  gasped.  "Dead  men  hang  peo- 
ple!" 

A  minute  before  he  was  ready  to  hurl  these  foes  to 
their  death ;  now  the  shadow  of  the  hangman's  noose 
caused  him  to  pause  and  shudderingly  draw  back. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

MERRIWELL   TO   THE  RESCUE. 

"What  did  we  do  it  fer?"  snapped  Jackson,  as  if 
wishing  to  unburden  himself,  though  no  question  had 
been  asked  him. 

"Money!" 

Bart  Hodge  had  returned  to  consciousness  in  the 
mountain  path,  after  being  bound  and  subjected  to 

ill-treatment  and  indignities,  though  he  had  not  re- 
gained the  land  of  sentient  things  so  quickly  as  Swift- 
wing.  Both  were  now  at  the  cabin  tied  and  held  as 
close  prisoners.  Lucy  was  there  also,  and,  though 
she  was  not  bound,  she  was  closely  watched  and  dared 
not  approach  either  Hodge  or  the  Pueblo. 

Swift  wing  was  once  more  outwardly  composed 
and  Sphinxlike,  his  brown  face  and  black  eyes  show- 
ing nothing  of  the  volcanic  torrent  that  had  flowed 
lavalike  through  his  veins  that  day.  Hodge  was 
also  still,  though  his  face  was  shadowed  with  resent- 
ful impatience  arid  hate.  He  did  not  yet  understand 
the  situation,  and  the  looks  he  gave  the  Pueblo  were 
full  of  questioning  and  a  sort  of  maddened  wonder. 
Why  was  Swiftwing  bound? 

"You  won't  get  any  money  by  keeping  me  tied  up 
here  like  a  bundle  of  hay !"  growled  Hodge. 


316  Merriwell  to  the  Rescue. 

"More  likely  to  than  if  we  let  you  go!"  grinned 
Jackson. 

Conner  nursed  his  battered  nose  and  sore  eye,  squat- 
ting on  a  camp-stool  and  smoking  a  black  pipe.  One 
of  the  other  woodsmen  reclined  on  a  cot  of  pine 
needles  and  hemlock  boughs  in  a  corner  cursing  over 
a  half-broken  ringer.  The  other  sat  moodily  fingering 
the  revolver  in  the  cabin  door.  Jackson  was  the  only 
One  who  had  any  desire  to  talk. 

"Who  are  you  expecting  to  get  pay  from  for  our 
release  ?" 

"Nobody!" 

"Who  is  the  money  coming  from,  then?" 

"Delancy  Livingston  and  Hammerswell — fer  the  re- 
lease of  her!"  nodding  his  head  toward  the  corner  in 
which  sat  Lucy.  "We're  after  some  of  that  boodle 
they  got  t'other  night  from  the  New  York  bloods  in 
that  big  card-game.  We  weren't  big  enough  swin- 
dlers to  beat  it  out  of  'em  at  poker" — here  Jackson 
grinned  again — "so  we  thought  we'd  git  it  in  a  more 
honester  way.  We  grabbed  the  girl  when  we  had  a 
chance  and  wan't  no  one  lookin',  and  we've  sent  a 
note  to  Delancy  tellin'  him  to  cough  up  two  thousand 
dollars  of  that  wad  and  we'll  send  her  back!  You 
thought  you  was  smart,  mixin'  into  the  thing,  and 
you  got  yer  head  broke!" 

"I'll  break  your  head  as  soon  as  I  get  a  chance." 

"Thank  ye  fer  your  good  wishes^" 


Merriwell  to  the  Rescue.  317 

He  was  silent  a  moment. 

"If  no  answer  comes  from  that  note,  we'll  send 
t'other  one;  and  if  none  comes  from  that  we'll  heave 
the  girl  over  one  of  these  bluffs  and  jump  the  coun- 
try. This  is  business !  We  are  goin'  to  have  some  of 
that  money.  So,  I  guess  it  was  a  good  thing  that  you 
and  the  Indian  come  along.  You'll  do  f  er  messengers !" 

He  seemed  to  want  to  get  Bart  to  talk,  but  Bart 
kept  silent,  moodily  thinking  and  planning. 

"Of  course,  when  we  let  you  go  to  send  word,  we'll 
shift  quarters.  Ain't  fools  enough  to  stay  here  after 
that!  Goin'  to  move  any  way  in  another  hour!" 

There  was  no  reply  to  this,  and  Jackson  again  be- 
came silent.  The  woodsman  in  the  doorway  clicked 
round  the  cylinder  of  the  revolver  and  pointed  the 
weapon  at  an  imaginary  foe  out  on  a  point  of  rocks. 
The  rising  wind  swayed  the  branches  of  the  tree  that 
overhung  the  cabin,  seeming  to  give  the  roof  a  thump 
now  and  then  and  a  scraping  sound  that  made  Swift- 
wing  glance  upward. 

"Where's  Merriwell?"  Jackson  suddenly  asked. 

"He's  here!" 

A  form  dropped  down  from  the  roof  upon  the  mad 
in  the  doorway  and  tore  the  revolver  from  his  fingers* 
The  man  tumbled  backward  with  a  howl,  and  Frank' 
Merriwell  arose  in  the  doorway  and  leveled  the  re- 
volver at  Jackson's  broad  breast.  Conner  sprang  up 


318  Merriwell  to  the  Rescue. 

and  seemed  about  to  plunge  through  the  little  window 
at  the  back. 

"Shoot  him  down,  fellows,  if  he  comes  through 
the  window!"  Fr^nk  shouted. 

There  wai  a  clicking  of  rifle  locks  back  of  the  cabin 
and  the  words: 

"Let  'em  come !    We're  ready  for  them !" 

"Surrender!"  said  Merriwell,  still  covering  Jack- 
son. "You  can't  get  away!" 

Lucy  rose  up  with  a  scream.  Bart  Hodge's  face 
shone  with  joy  and  delight.  Swiftwing's  eyes  bright- 
ened. Conner  drew  back  from  the  window  with  a 
deep  curse  and  turned  to  the  door. 

"Take  care  of  Jackson  and  I'll  take  care  of  the 
other  fellow,"  a  voice  seemed  to  say  at  Merriwell's 
back.  "I'll  plug  him  if  he  jumps  for  the  door!" 

Frank  laughed. 

"It's  no  use,  Conner!  The  jig  is  upf  We've  run 
you  down,  and  you'll  surrender  if  you're  wise.  If 
not,  we'll  simply  shoot  you  down  like  dogs.  Sur- 
render!" 

This  last  was  to  Jackson,  whose  eyes  were  rolling, 
for  he  believed  that  the  house  was  surrounded  by 
armed  men. 

"Surrender,  or  I'll  put  a  bullet  through  you,  Jack- 
son! Hands  up!" 

Jackson's   face   was   white   and   his   mouth   oozed 


Merriwell  to  the  Rescue.  319 

foam.  The  sweat  broke  out  on  his  forehead.  But 
his  hands  went  up. 

"I  surrender!"  he  gurgled. 

Again  Merriwell  laughed,  that  dangerous,  deadly 
laugh  which  friends  and  foes  had  learned  to  know. 

"Untie  Hodge!"  he  said  to  Lucy,  turning  the  re- 
volver on  Conner.  She  jumped  to  the  task,  though 
trembling,  and  began  to  cast  off  Bart's  bonds. 

"Shoot  the  first  man  that  makes  a  break  to  get  out 
of  the  house!"  Frank  called. 

And  the  answer  came  back : 

"Let  them  come!     We're  ready  for  them!" 

With  Lucy's  assistance,  Hodge  fairly  tore  himself 
out  of  his  bonds. 

"Now  tie  them  up!"  was  Merry's  next  order,  this 
time  to  Hodge. 

The  cords  were  ready,  some  of  them  removed  from 
his  own  person  and  others  taken  from  Swiftwing's 
hands  and  feet,  and  with  these  Hodge  made  the  ras- 
cals fast,  while  Lucy  sought  for  other  pieces  of  rope 
and  rawhide,  and  found  them.  In  less  than  two  min- 
utes the  abductors  of  Lucy  Livingston,  who  had 
thought  to  hold  her  for  ransom  and  secure  a  goodly 
sum  of  money  from  Delancy  and  Hammerswell,  were 
Frank  Merriwell's  prisoners. 

"Where  are  the  others?"  Jackson  asked,  as  silence 
reigned  out-of-doors,  while  he  lay  against  the  wall, 
bound  and  helpless. 


320  Merriwell  to  the  Rescud 

Merriwell  pointed  to  himself. 

"Here!" 

Jackson's  eyes  rolled,  and  he  writhed  till  it  seemed 
that  he  would  snap  his  cords. 

"Do  you  mean  there  ain't  any  other  men  out  there?" 

"None  at  all,  Jackson!  That  was  one  of  my  little 
ventriloquial  tricks.  The  whole  force  is  here  be- 
fore you.  But  you'll  not  get  away,  now!" 

Nor  did  they;  for  Merriwell,  with  Hodge  and 
Swiftwing,  accompanied  by  Lucy  Livingston, 
marched  the  scoundrels  back  to  the  Wabeek,  and 
there  turned  them  over  to  the  sheriff  of  the  county  to 
be  held  in  prison  for  trial  on  a  charge  of  abduction 
for  ransom. 

"Merriwell,  you're  all  right!"  Kirk  repeated,  again 
coming  forward  and  taking  Frank  by  the  hand.  "You 
can  do  more  than  pitch  baseball!  You're  all  right, 
and  I'm  proud  to  be  numbered  among  your  friends!" 

THE  END. 


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